Kohaku
Kohaku flashed Urania a knowing grin, with dancing eyes. The kind of look that was enigmatic and told her she was on the right track at the same time.
Then the kunoichi grew grave. "Thirteen harvesters," she explained, "You know, the green men? They're a sort of grow-your-own-army. They hide in the wilderness by day, assuming the form of young trees. By night they hunt human habitations, seeking women to violate.
"A woman sexually defeated by harvesters is impregnated. With the rising of the sun, she births a large seed. The harvesters then carry that seed back to the Mandrake Devil. She takes it into her womb and in 9 nights a new harvester is born, fully mature and ready to continue the cycle—or be called upon to go to war.
"You've put a dent in their numbers. They're begin more careful now. This is the only group I've spotted since... You know. The same Baron was leading them, last time. He looks like the outline of a hooded figure—almost a grim reaper sculpted of darkness and wreathed in writhing shadows.
"The other devil baron is dead. The one with the toad tongue. I don't know yet if there are others or not."
She didn't elaborate on the death of Toad. These girls had gentle spirits--even the amazon. Even after what Toad had done to them, no one had gone to check that he was dead. She should warn them for the future--warn them not to assume a man like that was dead 'til his head was severed from his shoulders, but..
Couldn't they be innocent just a little while longer? Couldn't they go a few more days, or years, or maybe even the rest of their lives, before they had to truly be killers?
"There!" Kohaku hissed, pulling them to a stop and leaning around a corner. They saw a plain gray apartment building with darkened windows and six floors. "Low income housing for unmarried women," She whispered, "Mostly janitors working downtown."
A gust of wind rattled the door. "They're already inside," she hissed, "Ripped the lock off it's hinges."
A shift on the wind and sounds from the apartment came to them now, lead by a scream of fear. They could hear other whimpers follow it, women already fallen pray to the Harverters panting and crying.