Undoubtedly sour was the first estimate from the most intelligent man in the room, but there was some positive news for the group.

First, Xia and her passenger returned safely from the calamity, though shaken. Thanks to Ciel’s precautionary decoy, both women were able to escape the chaos.

On the tiny island that housed Sharley’s original headquarters, the gang reconvened inside a mobile bunker. In contrast to Sharley's original intent, Ciel was a disaster-proof tank equipped with the plating and suspension system needed to withstand a war.

Designed for the war with Maximus, the bunker sadly failed to make it in time for its original mission. Yes, the protection system was complete, but a mobile bunker without an engine was only qualified to be an ugly house. A very sturdy house, to be fair, but nothing useful against the Lord. With the war in the East settled, this bunker was left sitting forlorn in the [Workshop].

That was until a certain newly awakened monstrosity rose to the ocean floor and whipped up the storm, blowing away any structure that wasn’t hurricane-proof.

After that, the demand for immobile, indestructible iron huts shot up somewhat.

There, inside the newly installed dingy metal box, the key contributors of the following battles sat around the table.

Brutus Santino was the first among them to speak.

“So you fail.”

The defendant, Nuan Yulong, gulped down the canteen of hot cocoa and shot back at the sour grape.

“We did remove the pirate.”

Santino wasn’t letting things sit that easily.

“Only for them to be replaced with something worse.”

“Friends,” said the translucent image of Marjorie. “Let’s be calm and talk this through like civilized people. We are in the middle of another crisis. There are many things we should be doing aside from pointing fingers.”

The last man at the table, Gordon Seyfert, announced his presence with a huff.

“Marjorie is right,” the Admiral of the Five Oceans said. “We are too precarious of a situation to be distracted. How are things going in the Clam Palace?”

“Most of Elric and Aroma’s influence is curbed,” Marjorie said. “But the crisis hit before the situation stabilized.”

It was the truth, but Marjorie left many important chunks out of the bulk of her summary. The consolidation of power by Sharley was going brilliantly—so brilliantly, it would be labeled as miraculous in most circumstances. Alas, they weren’t in normal circumstances. It was one thing to be hit with an existential threat following an attack by Apolline. Suffering through that ordeal while having the sea turn into an apocalypse was a whole magnitude above the danger level.

“Sharley is keeping things under control, but the mermaids are on the verge of panic,” Marjorie expanded further. “The military forces are still picking themselves together after Apolline sent them all to the infirmary.”

“How much is the damage?” Santino asked.

“About 87%,” Marjorie said, unamused.

Santino facepalmed. “It appears getting the Unity Lord to help is..."

As if waiting for that exact declaration, the representative of said troublemaker—Caislean—stepped through a crack that suddenly emerged from thin air.

“We heard about your issue,” Caislean said to the shocked room. “Do not worry. Our house has spared no expenses. Amy Seyfert has already prepared the healing potions that will aid the mermaid army in getting back into shape. As for Amibus=Neptunus, we have already performed the preliminary analysis. Although the fight won’t be easy, we have a solid shot at beating him.”

Marjorie’s face frowned at the overly optimistic interruption to a dire situation.

“Miss Caislean, that thing is the size of an island, and do you see the field of mud that constantly spawned... creatures?”

“Yes, we did see it,” Caislean said. “And we know enough to say it is way worse than you expected. Aside from producing life forms at rapid speed, that thing also spreads out miasma that will mutate you into a lifeform under its thrall with enough exposure.”

Gordon frowned. “So that is what happened to the pirates.”

“Exactly,” Caislean said. “And that is where our counter comes in.”

With that proclamation, the maid slammed a jar of cookies on the table.

Santino and Nuan looked at Caislean like she had gone insane. Marjorie’s business-worthy smile nearly fell apart.

“Cookies,” Santino said, looking at the secretary with an intent to kill. “This is your secret weapon.”

Alas, it was Gordon who noticed what the reverence of art was being presented before him.

“Santino, you have no class,” Gordon said, grabbing the jar and inspecting it with awe. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yep, Amy made it,” Caislean agreed with a nod. “We are mass-producing those new units to distribute to Clam Palace’s army.”

“I see,” Gordon said with the satisfied but sad smile of a father watching his little girl grow up.

“What is it, Gordon?” Santino said.

Caislean walked over to the Admiral of the Five Oceans and took the jar back.

“This,” Caislean began her speech, “is Unity Inc.'s latest product—Ocean Romance or curse energy conversion cookies. After analyzing the nature of Amibus-Neptunus’s curse, our chef had managed to deduce a formula to convert the poisonous mutagenic energy and turn it into raw Ether. With this latest confectionary marvel, your average trooper will see a 245% increase in their parameter in combat against Amibus=Neptunus.”

Marjorie’s eyes twitched.

“How did you create such a counter so fast?" Marjorie said.

“Our cook is just that good,” Caislean shrugged. “And that isn’t the only thing we have cooked up. Our necromancer and librarian are currently working overtime.”

…

Yes, they were currently working overtime.

Particularly at handling their husband’s bad habits.

“I am vetoing an army of curse-power robots,” Betty said.

“Why?” Ciel said, slapping his glorious blueprint in protest.

“Ciel, hubby, do you realize we do not have unlimited wealth?" Xia said, placating Ciel.

“But we do,” Ciel argued. “Sharley can fund it.”

It was Carolina who shot that idea down.

“No, that bitch will use this opportunity to hike into the harem,” Carolina said. “We are already running out of bed space.”

“Fine,” Ciel said, taking down the blueprints. “This is strange. Normally, you never try to interfere with my plans.”

Betty sighed. It was sad, but this situation made her a little happy. Most of the time, Ciel was the perfect person, capable of thinking up perfectly viable plans at a moment's notice. Aside from emotional blindness, he had almost no flaws to relate to.

That was until they stumbled upon the reality that should have been clear from the start: Ciel had absolutely no intention of maintaining the status quo or order of any kind.

It wasn’t a fluke that every place Ciel went ended up in flames. From the very beginning, his advice valued the individual on the other end over the well-being of society. 

Fallout from Xia abdicating the crown princess position and leaving a delipidating town called Springsong? Aww, drat, I left the obviously incompetent political regime to handle the problem! Welp, that is certainly not my business. Who cared about Springsong anyway?

A manipulative Lord took over the nation and fortified herself to the point of invincibility? Don’t fight an unwinnable battle; sit back and let society inevitably implode, then pick off the straggler.

How about the entire mess in Eleanor? The nation is fated to decline anyway; better make the most of it.

How about the Angel Fall and the devastation of the East? Tragic, but they can rebuild.

It should be transparently clear that Ciel was never a problem solver. He killed the problem in the most efficient way, leaving things on fire and millions dead. One could even attribute this tendency to how things went wrong in the void. If there was a contest for the god of anarchy and ruthless efficiency on Acceltra, Ciel would be the number one nominee given his civilization kill streak—all of which was a completely unintentional side effect of minding his own business.

In truth, if Ciel had stuck to his original plans, Clam Palace and the mermaid would have joined the friendly fire list as well. Luckily, Sharley and Holmes successfully dug their way out of that.

While some, like Carolina, might be fine with that method, Betty and Amy slowly realized the proverbial end point where every continent was nuked, so they decided to install some taps to the canal of madness.

Many would argue that the newly introduced cookies rendered the madness unnecessary. Those many would likely forget that having an army of mermaids on a magical steroid didn’t really sound like an optimistic ticket against a zombie-of-mass-destruction infinitely spawning endless cannon-fodder.

“Ciel,” Betty said, tiredly looking at another blueprint. “I don’t know if the international community will be fine with the Long-range Ether implosion Missile.”

“How is that a problem?” Ciel asked innocently.

Carolina responded with the sanity a person never expected from a necromancer.

“It will be a problem once everyone decides the missile is too much of a threat,” Carolina said.

“I am not here to preserve their feelings,” Ciel said, completely unashamed. “I am here offering the lowest cost of victory and…”

Even Xia joined in on damage control with an incredible secret weapon.

“Ciel, we know you are thinking that we can sustain ourselves indefinitely inside an alternate dimension where no one can touch us. I know you have sixteen plans to discombobulate every faction currently in Acceltra.”

“Actually, it is five,” Rem corrected. He did not know whether falling short of this particular expectation was a good thing.

Xia hurriedly upped her sales.

“That aside, do you think anyone will enjoy making the enemy out of the entire world? Please remember that you are about to be the head of a noble household."

“Exactly,” Betty added. “Your action will reflect on all of us. I am certain I can find us allies, but only if nobody in the ballroom freaks out the moment I enter.” Betty shot a snide look at the necromancer beside her. “I don’t know about Carolina, but it is better to keep your card under wraps in a long-term political game.”

“Oi, take that back, you bitch,” Carolina said.

Knowing the room was about to erupt into chaos, Ciel groaned.

“You are asking me to kill an island-size monster subtly while minimizing the complications. Do you realize how impossible that sounds?”

“But you can do it, right, dear?” Betty said, winking at him. “I can give you plenty of incentives tonight.”

…

After a few hours at Clam Palace, Apolline received the update.

“So I miss tonight's fun,” Apolline said.

From the telepathic channel of the Residence, Betty spoke.

Betty: To be fair, Carolina also missed it after she needed to carry out the research.

“Stop trying to hide the cheery tone,” growled the frustrated Apolline. “Come on, tell me the plan. I heard Ciel was talking about magic nukes.”

Betty: No.

“What about that army of killer robots?”

Betty: God. Damn. No.

"Ok, what do I have then?"

Answer: Not a lot