So not entirely useless, just useless in the long run of things. Unless this radio man did the 'let me bounce you wherever you like' every night. That might not be so bad and could actually lead to discoveries worth some bit of merit. However, seeing that the Institute and its compatriots loved to pull the proverbial rug out from under everyone, Grell doubted things would be so nice. More than likely, it would be back to the clues and the annoyances that Grell had come to hate so much. He suspected that was why that rude man started yelling at him about "being first" in the shed a few nights past. Grell cared little for whatever the radio had to say, but apparently others were far too invested in this little rat race.

Glancing over, Grell noticed Hanatarou staring at his hands and he sat up, patting the boy on the head. "Now now, don't be so glum. I'm certain there is something we can do, hm? Nothing is ever hopeless until you're dead and we all know even that isn't the end." He smiled briefly and then pulled his hand back, crossing one arm over his chest to rest lightly on his elbow while he tapped a finger against his bottom lip. "What is this zanpakuto? Is it what you lot in the Orient call your scythes?"