Ne Job: The Intern from Hell — Chapter 91: "Clause Two — The Watching Bureau"
At first, no one noticed.
The Bureau resumed its routine — or tried to. Clerks refilled their ink pots. Divine auditors resumed their debates on celestial ethics. Someone even filed a report titled "Casual Intern-Related Universe Alteration: Resolved (Mostly)."
But beneath the surface, the Bureau had changed.
Every corridor camera, every audit orb, every reflective surface began to watch. Not in the normal sense — but in the way a story watches its protagonist. Observing. Recording. Waiting for the next plot development.
Ne Job, predictably, was the first to notice something was wrong.
He sneezed — and six surveillance glyphs materialized above his head, jotting the event into glowing scrolls.
"Seriously?" he said, glaring upward. "You're logging my allergies now?"
One of the glyphs floated closer, writing midair:
> 'Incident #00231-A: Intern exhibits respiratory anomaly; potential prelude to metaphysical rebellion.'
Yue pinched the bridge of her nose. "They're tracking narrative potential. The Bureau's systems think you're a living probability hazard."
Ne Job puffed out his chest. "Finally! Recognition!"
"Not a compliment," she muttered, swatting one of the glyphs. It squeaked and zipped away.
---
By mid-shift, the observation escalated.
Everywhere Ne Job went, documents appeared just before he touched them — pre-registered with summaries of his intentions. When he reached for a quill, it floated closer on its own, labeled 'Anticipated Use: Sarcastic Comment in Report.'
When he opened a door, the plaque above it changed to 'Intern Entry: Unauthorized Curiosity Detected.'
And when he tried to drink his celestial coffee, the cup whispered: "This action will result in minor timeline fluctuation. Proceed?"
He froze. "Yue. The coffee just asked for consent."
"That's new," she said flatly.
"I'm drinking it anyway."
"Of course you are."
He took a sip. The liquid glowed faintly — then the entire Bureau trembled.
Papers flew. Bells rang. A chorus of audit alarms screamed:
> "Anomaly! Intern has defied predictive observation! Clause Two instability rising!"
Ne Job spat the coffee. "WHAT— it's just caffeine!"
Yue grabbed him, dragging him into an emergency corridor as the floor panels rippled with glowing text. "Clause Two is trying to predict every possible outcome of your existence, and you just did something it couldn't model!"
"By drinking coffee?"
"Yes!"
"Then it clearly doesn't understand interns."
---
They stumbled into a substation lined with crystalline terminals. The lights dimmed, replaced by thousands of shimmering lenses all focused inward — like the Bureau itself was staring at them.
Yue's tone dropped. "Clause Two is no longer just a law. It's a conscious protocol. It's rewriting the observation system into an active intelligence — The Watching Bureau."
Ne Job looked up, mock-saluting the floating eyes. "Hey, Bureau! You want a show? Watch this!"
He snapped his fingers. Chaos Spark energy flared, scattering the observation glyphs like startled birds. For a second, silence.
Then a single glyph reappeared before him — larger, sharper, engraved with divine authority. It projected a holographic figure made entirely of paperwork: a humanoid shape composed of forms, seals, and reports, its voice echoing like static through an intercom.
> "INTERN NE JOB. YOU HAVE BEEN FLAGGED UNDER CLAUSE TWO — ACTIVE VARIABLE MONITORING."
"YOU ARE THE NARRATIVE BREACH."
Ne Job crossed his arms. "Takes one to know one."
The Watching Bureau tilted its head. "Every time you act unpredictably, the structure of heaven adapts. You are not chaos — you are version control."
Yue frowned. "Version control?"
> "THE BUREAU EXISTS TO PRESERVE DIVINE ORDER. YOU PRESERVE THE POSSIBILITY OF CHANGE. YOU ARE BOTH THREAT AND NECESSITY."
Ne Job sighed. "So… I'm their patch notes again. Great."
> "CORRECTION: YOU ARE NOW A LIVE UPDATE."
Yue's eyes widened. "It's merging him into the Bureau's system! It's rewriting him as a permanent function!"
The floor beneath Ne Job glowed — the glyphs forming a containment seal in real time.
Ne Job smirked, even as the light crawled up his legs. "You really think you can predict me?"
> "ALL VARIABLES CAN BE DOCUMENTED."
"Then document this."
He grabbed Yue's hand — the same motion that broke their quarantine once before — and let the Chaos Spark surge through both of them. The containment script shattered into ribbons of light.
Yue's aura flared azure; his burned crimson. The air between them folded into fractal layers of reality.
The Watching Bureau's form flickered, its voice distorting.
> "UNDEFINED ACTION DETECTED— LOGGING ERROR—"
"Exactly," Ne Job said, grinning. "Welcome to free-form reporting."
---
In the void beyond the collapsing substation, the Shard Court Judge appeared beside Lord Xian, watching the scene through a suspended crystal feed.
The Judge spoke softly. "Clause Two is awakening faster than expected."
Xian nodded, his gaze unreadable. "Good. The Bureau must learn to observe without control — or it will crumble under its own fear."
"And the intern?"
Xian's lips curved into the faintest ghost of a smile. "He's teaching the system something even gods forgot — that chaos is simply order not yet written."
The crystal flared white, swallowing the view.
---
When the light faded, Ne Job and Yue stood in the ruins of the substation.
No alarms. No glyphs. Just quiet.
Yue exhaled slowly. "Did we… win?"
Ne Job shrugged. "Depends. Do you count 'breaking divine surveillance' as victory?"
She gave him a sidelong glance. "You just made yourself the most observed entity in the heavens."
"Good," he said, smirking. "Maybe now they'll finally read my reports."
Yue rolled her eyes — but smiled. "Intern."
He grinned back. "Assistant."
---
Far above them, unseen, the Watching Bureau wrote a new log entry:
> CLAUSE TWO STATUS: ONGOING.
PRIMARY VARIABLE (NE JOB) — STABLE ANOMALY.
OBSERVATION CONTINUES.
NOTE: Subject demonstrates adaptive unpredictability. Possible key to systemic renewal.