[Graverobber smirks slightly, hands open in a gesture of supplication of sorts.]

The dead are dead, Kid… they’re worm food and left to rot like any other bit of refuse or waste. I make the best of it, but I can assure you that my clientele is a very specific lot and that I bother as few as possible. [It just so happened that nearly everyone that died (or was killed) back home had Z to extract.]