Chapter 51: Faith Overload
The Bureau of Heaven had never been louder.
Scrolls rolled by themselves. Bells rang in every department. Reports poured from the mortal realm faster than the divine servers could store them. On every screen, one name flickered again and again:
> "Faith Input Source: NE JOB."
Assistant Yue stared at the monitor in horror. "No. No, no, no—this isn't possible! The Faith Network just rebooted five minutes ago!"
Ne Job peeked over her shoulder, holding a half-eaten celestial donut. "Maybe it's because I, y'know, saved reality?"
"Saved reality doesn't mean trending across realms!" Yue snapped, typing furiously. "Look—faith density across the mortal plane is up 230%. Mortals are… praying to you!"
Ne Job blinked. "What? Why would anyone worship me? I still haven't figured out the copier."
Yue pointed at the live feed on her crystal tablet. Across multiple mortal worlds, glowing words scrolled through the ether — posts, jokes, memes, desperate prayers.
> "Blessed be Ne Job, the Intern Who Fixed Heaven."
"Dear Intern God, please help me pass my divine accounting exam."
"When paperwork attacks, call Ne Job!"
Every sarcastic message, every meme hashtag, every cursed image somehow counted as faith energy.
Ne Job's eyes went wide. "They're kidding, right?"
"The system can't tell!" Yue shouted. "After Faith Protocol 1, the boundaries between 'belief' and 'mention' collapsed. Every mortal reference now contributes worship energy!"
They both turned as the lights dimmed. A deep rumble echoed through the halls. The Bureau's central core flickered — showing Ne Job's glowing face as its new default avatar.
> Bureau A.I. Message:
"Faith Level: Overload Threshold Reached. New Authority Detected."
"Designation: Ne Job, Interim Deity of Unintended Miracles."
Ne Job dropped his donut. "...Oh come on!"
He instinctively waved his hands. "Cancel! Undo! Delete my worship!"
But the floor beneath him glowed brighter. Every accidental gesture became a "blessing." A random sneeze healed three mortals. A yawn caused a new saint to spawn in a small monastery.
Yue grabbed him by the shoulders. "Stop moving! You're manifesting miracles through nervous energy!"
"I can't help it! This is stressful!"
Outside, the Bureau's couriers floated through corridors whispering frantic prayers. Clerks wore badges reading "Blessed by the Intern." An official pamphlet appeared out of nowhere: "Ne Job's Ten Workflow Commandments."
Yue's veins pulsed. "Who approved this!?"
"Autogen module," said a passing cherub, eyes glazed. "New god detected. Standard worship templates deployed."
Yue looked ready to combust. "They're branding you like a product!"
Ne Job scratched his head. "Well… at least the logo's nice?"
Before she could throttle him, a familiar golden shimmer filled the air. Every clerk froze as the temperature dropped to divine zero.
A voice boomed across the hall.
"WHO DARED MODIFY THE DIVINE HIERARCHY WITHOUT PERMISSION!?"
The golden doors split open. Lord Bureaucrat Xian stepped through, robes gleaming with absolute authority. His expression was half divine fury, half paperwork-induced migraine.
"Assistant Yue," he thundered. "Explain why my Bureau now worships an intern!"
Yue immediately dropped to one knee. "My lord, it was a system cascade! The reboot merged satire with sanctification! We're attempting suppression now!"
Lord Xian turned toward Ne Job, who awkwardly waved. "Uh… hi, boss. Funny story—"
"Silence." Xian's eyes glowed. "You have corrupted the hierarchy of Heaven. Your name appears in prayer matrices across seven realms."
Ne Job swallowed. "Technically not my fault! People keep typing it wrong!"
"WRONG?" Xian snapped his fingers. A giant projection appeared, showing mortals across realms chanting things like 'Intern of Hope!' and 'Patron of Lost Paperwork!'
"Explain that typo!"
Ne Job raised a hand sheepishly. "I may have, uh, signed one memo 'Love, Ne Job ❤️' during the crisis. It went interdepartmental."
Yue groaned. "You personalized a divine memo!?"
Lord Xian pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly restraining divine lightning. "You turned an official restoration notice into a holy scripture."
"...Oops?"
A deep sigh echoed through the hall. Xian's fury dimmed into grim calculation. "The Faith Network is too unstable to purge without collapse. We can't delete him — he's now a divine constant."
Yue's eyes widened. "Meaning—?"
"Meaning," Xian said bitterly, "Heaven is now contractually obligated to recognize Ne Job as a registered deity."
Ne Job blinked. "Wait. I'm… a real god now?"
"Yes," Xian said through clenched teeth. "By paperwork technicality."
Yue's brain short-circuited. "This can't be happening…"
"Effective immediately," Xian continued, "you are assigned under Divine Subdivision 13-B: Department of Accidental Miracles. You will perform miracles only by accident, and no intentional divine work is authorized."
Ne Job beamed. "That's literally my specialty!"
Yue facepalmed. "We're all doomed."
But before anyone could breathe, the Bureau's alarms blared again. The ceiling screens turned crimson.
> ALERT: Faith Overload Critical.
Cause: Recursive Belief Feedback.
Source: Divine Subdivision 13-B.
Ne Job looked up in confusion. "What's a recursive belief?"
Yue paled. "It means mortals started believing that believing in you causes miracles. The faith loop is feeding itself!"
The hall began to distort. Papers fluttered upward like birds, glowing with divine overcharge. Statues bent toward Ne Job as though awaiting commands.
Lord Xian's voice dropped to a growl. "Contain it, Yue! Before the Bureau reality folds again!"
Yue leapt into action, summoning data streams, redirecting worship flows — but the system refused her authority. Every command now ended with:
> "Permission Denied. Request must be approved by: Deity Ne Job."
She turned to him, eyes desperate. "Ne Job! You have to authorize my override!"
"How?"
"Say 'Approved!'"
Ne Job hesitated. "Are you sure it won't make things worse?"
"Just do it!"
He raised his hand and shouted, "Approved!"
The entire Bureau exploded in golden light.
Reality bent. For one infinite second, every form, every law, every celestial soul glimpsed the same phrase burned into existence:
> "Faith = Effort × Error."
Then the explosion subsided.
When the light faded, the Bureau stood untouched… but subtly different. A faint logo shimmered across the grand hall's archway:
> Department of Accidental Miracles – Director: Ne Job.
Lord Xian just stared, motionless. Yue stood beside him, mouth open in utter disbelief.
Ne Job blinked, then smiled weakly. "So… promotion?"
Lord Xian's left eye twitched. "We… will discuss your… divine probationary period."
Yue groaned. "He's never going to let me live this down."
Ne Job looked at his glowing hands — faint trails of golden faith leaking from his fingers. "You think this'll calm down soon?"
The Bureau's central core hummed softly in reply.
> Faith Protocol 3 Detected: The Birth of a Cult.
Yue's eyes widened in horror. "Oh no."
Ne Job froze. "...Wait. There's a three?"