Interesting. Doing this would cause it pain. Moreso than Hannibal had imagined. He had wanted only to show it his displeasure. Now to know that it would actually hurt the City was causing in him some eagerness. He wanted to be at the task now, rather then standing here in this park.
"I came here for a purpose. I am not out for mental or emotional cruelty. I am here for the physicality. Perhaps forcing it to deal with these things itself would cause it some harm, but I wish it to feel something that it will remember."
He wondered then how much of his other deeds the City had felt. He had killed what she called it's children before. He had done away with some in manners that were not kind in the least, and not quick by any measurement. He had to wonder if it was already aware of what he was capable of. If it knew he was growing in his hungers and the abilities he had to sate them.
If so, why had it not treated him worse while he was in Arkham? But was it foolish of him to think that it did not know? That it was not always aware of the people it had birthed and what they were up to? How they were living, and thus how they were dying?
These were questions he might pose to Baba Yaga later.
He looked into her eyes and saw the crone there. Saw that wisdom that the stories had spoken of. The knowledge and the age. She was telling him, not guessing, that these two were offerings. He believed her.
Would he be offered more? Would the City keep putting it's cows before him for slaughter until he was satisfied? It was a question he was curious to see the answer for. He would kill as many as he was given. He would end the lives of the entire staff population of Arkham, if that was an option. Acting as a force of revenge for all that had been kept there, though they did not ask him for it. And though that would not be the reason behind his actions.