Back to business! Jon could practically sigh in relief, and only just manages not to do so, but the ease of his tense shoulders is obvious. Costs, supplies, he'd braced for just about any of that. He was prepared from the moment he called to try anything beyond destroying it, which has already proven completely ineffective. The grinder doesn't even show any of the futile cracks he took at it with a hammer, but this town could only be so lucky to get rid of it that easily.

"Oh, God, no, no blood," Jon gives an awkward laugh of his own. "I think that would just amplify the problem, really. Cinnabar is manageable, though! Short supply aside. If you let me know the cost, I can give you the funds up front--- including for your time, of course. Won't make you stay near it without compensation. Any cost is well-worth keeping that thing away from any careless hands."

He'd really tried to avoid getting into any degree of the meat grinder's sordid affairs, but he can't help it. That particular statement was especially haunting; it's hard not to think about it, even if he would truly prefer not to ever again.