Ne Job: The Intern from Hell — Chapter 89: "Summoned Intern — The Bureau's Secret Directive"
The silence after Sublevel 9 was the kind that only existed in broken systems — that pregnant, uneasy quiet between two alarms.
Yue's boots echoed against the marble corridor as she followed Ne Job out of the elevator. The higher they climbed, the more normal things pretended to look: clerks murmuring to themselves, celestial pens refilling automatically, stacks of reports rising like bureaucratic stalagmites. But the illusion was paper-thin.
Everyone they passed stared too long. And not at Yue — at him.
Ne Job tugged at his collar, grimacing. "Why do I feel like I just got promoted to scapegoat?"
Yue sighed. "Because you might have. Whatever that file was—it rewrote part of the Bureau's internal registry. I checked while we were in the elevator."
He blinked. "You were auditing during an interdimensional collapse?"
"I multitask," she snapped. "Listen—your name's now tagged under 'Summoned Entity (Probationary).' That's not an intern classification. It's a containment one."
Ne Job groaned. "So I'm technically both employee and hazard? That explains the benefits package."
They reached the upper corridor leading to the Directorate Chamber, where the Bureau's senior deities convened. The double doors loomed — massive slabs of obsidian inked with divine seals. They pulsed faintly, like the heartbeat of some ancient god buried beneath protocol.
Yue hesitated. "Once we go in, they'll want answers."
Ne Job flashed his crooked grin. "Lucky for them, I specialize in creative explanations."
The doors opened before they could knock.
Inside, the Shard Court Judge stood at the head of the long table, robes shimmering with fractal light. Lord Bureaucrat Xian sat opposite, a quiet storm of authority, quill poised over a hovering ledger. Around them, projections of other divine departments flickered — Finance, Karma Redistribution, Mortal Compliance.
Yue's pulse quickened. "All divisions are here…"
Lord Xian spoke first, voice even but heavy. "Intern Ne Job. You accessed Sublevel 9 without authorization."
"Technically," Ne Job said, "Sublevel 9 accessed me first."
A ripple of uneasy murmurs passed through the holographic council.
The Judge's eyes gleamed. "And yet, it revealed to you a file — your own."
Ne Job met his gaze. "Yeah. About that. Is someone gonna explain why the Bureau has my name under 'Summoned Entity'? Because unless my unpaid internship doubles as an occult ritual, someone's doing cosmic HR wrong."
The Judge's expression didn't flicker. "The Bureau does not summon. We recruit."
Lord Xian exhaled, interlacing his fingers. "That's not entirely true."
Every projection turned toward him. The temperature in the room dropped.
"Lord Xian," Yue said quietly, "you knew."
His quill hovered, dripping faint light. "I suspected. Decades ago, the Bureau executed Directive Null — a desperate act during the Celestial Collapse. We lost control of half our processing archives, and divine workflow halted. The Rebirth Directive was supposed to restore stability…"
Ne Job frowned. "Let me guess — it didn't?"
Xian shook his head. "To rebuild the Bureau's foundation, we needed a host—someone not bound by Heaven's protocols. A mortal vessel who could withstand Chaos integration without erasure."
Yue's voice went faint. "You summoned him into the Bureau."
Xian met her eyes, sorrow flickering there. "We summoned the idea of an intern. It took form on its own."
Ne Job's smirk faltered. "So you didn't pick me… I happened."
The Judge's voice cut in, sharp and cold. "Which means he was never truly employed. He is an anomaly — a patchwork of divine bureaucracy and mortal will."
Ne Job's hands clenched. "Then why keep me here?"
"Because the Bureau runs smoother when you exist," Xian said simply. "The moment you were deleted during the Audit, our system began fracturing. When you returned, so did function. You are both the error and the fix."
Yue turned to Ne Job, her face unreadable. "You're the Bureau's recursion loop."
He laughed — short, bitter. "Great. I'm the world's first sentient clerical typo."
Then the lights dimmed. Every ledger in the chamber snapped open.
Ink bled upward from the pages, forming spectral figures — translucent bureaucrats whispering in unison:
> "Directive Null incomplete… Summoning incomplete…"
Yue grabbed Ne Job's arm. "It's spreading!"
Lord Xian rose, power radiating from his hands. "Contain the breach!"
But Ne Job's pulse was already glowing with chaotic runes. The ink ghosts turned toward him, bowing.
> "The Summoned Directive recognizes its source…"
A thunderous hum shook the floor. Papers flew from every desk, spiraling into a vortex above the table.
Ne Job looked up as his reflection appeared in the swirling ink — not as he was, but as something older, eyes glowing with the same seal that marked the Bureau's core.
Yue whispered, "That's not you."
"Maybe it's what I was meant to be," he murmured.
The reflection smirked.
> "Version 0.0 — The Bureau Before Bureaucracy."
The vortex collapsed inward, sealing itself into a sigil that branded the ceiling with shimmering script:
"SUMMONING PROTOCOL REACTIVATED."
Silence followed.
The Judge's voice was the first to break it. "It seems the Bureau intends to finish what it started."
Ne Job flexed his hand, watching the runes pulse beneath his skin. "Guess I'm back on probation."
Yue exhaled shakily. "No, Ne Job… I think you just got promoted again."