Ne Job: The Intern from Hell — Chapter 87: "The Case of the Missing Chaos"
The Divine Bureau was in full crisis mode.
Every corridor trembled with the sound of celestial typewriters clacking in panic, messenger spirits zipping overhead like lightning bugs on caffeine. The marble floors reflected frantic footsteps — mostly Yue's — as she darted between divisions with an armful of case files taller than her head.
"Assistant Yue!" a voice boomed from the Records Department doorway. "Where's the Form 1087-B? The one for 'Containment Breach: Chaotic Residue'?"
Yue didn't even slow down. "Filed under 'Pending Existential Threats,' second drawer, third shelf, behind the 'Oops' folder!"
The bureaucrats blinked. "…there's an Oops folder?"
"Several," she shot back, disappearing around the corner.
---
Meanwhile, in the Investigation Wing, Ne Job had declared himself "Chief Investigator of Chaotic Mishaps," complete with a paper badge that said exactly that. He leaned dramatically over a glowing map of the Celestial Realm projected on the table.
"Look, Yue," he said, pointing at a pulsing red dot, "this is where the Chaos Spark vanished last night. Right after someone tried to 'borrow' a forbidden kettle from the Alchemy Pantry."
Yue dropped the files on the table with a thud that made the projection flicker. "You mean you tried to make instant ramen in a containment kettle."
"It was for morale!" Ne Job protested. "And research! Do you know how fast divine noodles absorb chaos essence? Perfect fuel for interns!"
"Perfect way to implode the pantry!" Yue hissed, massaging her temple. "Do you realize what happens if Chaos energy leaks into the Bureau's power grid? We'd have spontaneous paperwork replication!"
"…is that bad?"
"NE JOB!"
Her shout echoed down the hall, causing several cherub clerks to drop their quills.
---
Lord Bureaucrat Xian entered then, robes immaculate, expression not. The air around him warped slightly — the mark of someone who had just returned from a high-tier disciplinary meeting.
"I see the two of you are handling the incident," he said dryly.
"Yes, my Lord!" Ne Job said, saluting with a bent clipboard. "We're on the case! I've already identified suspects: (1) Evil Manual Spirit, (2) the intern break room microwave, and (3) the concept of lunch itself."
Lord Xian blinked once. "…fascinating. Do continue."
Yue stepped in before Ne Job could add "(4) the moon." "My Lord, the readings suggest the Chaos Spark wasn't stolen — it's mutating. It's like it's… rewriting its own containment record."
Lord Xian's eyes narrowed. "That shouldn't be possible unless someone gave it bureaucratic clearance."
Ne Job gulped. "…uh. Hypothetically, if a certain intern accidentally stamped a Chaos clearance form with the wrong seal—"
"WHICH SEAL, NE JOB?"
"The… shiny one?"
Lord Xian closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled through gritted teeth. "The shiny one is the Emergency Temporal Override seal. You may have just granted the Chaos Spark the right to edit time-stamped documents."
Yue froze. "That means— it could erase its own containment from history!"
Ne Job's eyes widened. "…so technically I didn't mess up if it never existed in the first place!"
Yue smacked him with a scroll. "You're making it worse!"
---
Before Xian could reprimand further, the lights flickered. Every lamp and halo in the Bureau dimmed to crimson, and the emergency intercom crackled alive.
> "Alert. Chaotic Anomaly detected in Sublevel 9. Paperwork density exceeding 900% of safe levels. Repeat, Sublevel 9 has achieved critical bureaucracy saturation."
Ne Job grinned. "Sounds like our kind of mess!"
Yue groaned, but grabbed her staff. "Let's go before it rewrites the filing system into an eldritch loop again."
As they raced toward the elevators, Lord Xian called after them: "Intern! If you survive, file a report!"
"On it, boss!" Ne Job shouted. "Assuming time still exists when we get back!"
The elevator doors closed, sealing them in a flickering red light. Yue glanced at him. "You do realize we're chasing an entity that can alter reality with bureaucracy?"
He smirked. "Then it's about time reality learns who the real paperwork demon is."
The elevator chimed. "Sublevel 9 — Chaotic Containment."
The doors opened into a corridor of floating documents and whispering forms, reality bending like melting ink.
Ne Job cracked his knuckles. "Let's solve this case."