Ne Job — Chapter 180: "The Fate Transfer Protocol"
The sky above the Shard Court was clean, for once—no angry heaven seals, no cinder storms of bureaucratic qi, no paperwork hail.
It was the kind of silence that didn't feel peaceful at all, but like everyone was holding their breath at the same time.
Ne Job stood on the cracked marble. His shadow stretched long behind him.
Across the hall, Dreivery Spirit Bao had never looked more terrified.
Bao was usually a mountain of an entity—indigo flames, bulky delivery pack, stoic courier's resolve.
Today he was just… shaking.
A dozen flying scrolls circled him like hungry birds, each stamped with the sigil of a Heavenly Reassignment Order.
Each scroll glowed with jade-red ink:
> FATE TRANSFER PROTOCOL: PUNISHMENT OF A SUBSTITUTE.
"What… is that?" Ne Job asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Princess Ling didn't answer.
Not because she didn't know—but because she couldn't get the words out.
Lord Bureaucrat Xian answered instead, solemn as a gravestone.
"A protocol reserved for the ancient days," he said. "One soul takes the cosmic punishment intended for another. Voluntarily. No appeal."
Bao's eyes never left Ne Job.
"I signed it," he said.
Ne Job blinked.
"Signed what?"
Bao swallowed, throat of fire flickering. "The Protocol. They will punish me instead of you."
The words smashed into Ne Job like iron blocks.
Everything in him recoiled. Anger. Confusion. A flare of something like grief.
Taiyi Zhenren, leaning against the pillar, spat out his tea.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR HEAVENLY MIND?!"
His voice cracked across the Court.
"You don't volunteer for Fate Transfer! That's like offering to dive into a star so your disciple can take a nap!"
Princess Ling finally found her voice. It was brittle.
"Bao… you… you cannot… your flame isn't— it will extinguish…"
The scrolls pulsed, hungry.
Bao didn't flinch.
"I can take it," he said.
No bluster.
No bravado.
No dramatic courier monologue.
Just simple, absolute certainty.
Ne Job's heart hammered. He stepped forward.
"Bao. Why?"
Bao looked at him like he was naïve.
"Because your punishment is designed to erase gods."
Gasps echoed. Even the Forgotten God of Paperwork halted mid-scribble.
Bao continued.
"You are not something that should be erased."
Ne Job sucked in air—
And then a ripple ran through the Court.
A ring of pale gold formed around Bao's feet.
Lines of fate—thin as spider silk, sharp as razors—snapped to him.
Ne Job lunged.
"STOP—!"
Shard Court Judge descended from the upper platform, robes trailing like broken glass.
"Protocol is activated," the Judge intoned.
"Interference will void the substitution… and revert punishment to the original target."
The Judge's many eyes pinned Ne Job.
"Are you prepared to take the consequence yourself?"
The room froze.
Everyone expected Ne Job to shout, to fight, to argue.
He did none of those things.
"I'm the one who caused the breach," he said quietly.
"I'm the one who broke the desk.
I'm the one who punched Heaven in the paperwork."
He looked at Bao.
"And I refuse to let you take the fall for me."
Bao smiled, weakly.
"That's the problem, kid," he whispered.
"You don't understand yet."
The golden ring flared.
Ne Job lunged again—
—and Assistant Yue moved like lightning.
She tackled him from the side, arms around his chest, stopping him cold.
"LET GO!" Ne Job roared.
"No," she snapped.
"Look."
She forced his head up.
Bao was glowing.
Not burning.
Not screaming.
Not dissolving.
Evolving.
His courier flame twisted, folding into new shapes.
A second aura—like frost—layered over it, stabilizing.
Princess Ling gasped.
"That's… that's the dual-state flame…!"
Xian's monocle cracked.
"But that technique was banned—!"
Bao's voice echoed across the Court.
"I'm not here to be a martyr."
He raised his hand.
"I'm here to become the shield you need."
The Protocol reached apex.
Scrolls exploded into beams, slamming into Bao's core.
Silence.
He staggered…
But did not kneel.
The flames around him turned still, focused, lethal.
He lifted his head, eyes blazing two colors—indigo and cold silver.
"Punishment accepted."
The Judge's voice thundered:
"FATE HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED."
A pillar of cosmic pressure hit Bao—an invisible star collapsing.
The hall shook.
Walls cracked.
Bureaucratic spirits screamed.
Bao braced.
He did not fall.
Ne Job could barely breathe.
The cosmic smash finally stopped.
When the light faded—
Bao stood, steaming, smoke rising from his shoulders.
Alive.
Barely.
He looked at Ne Job.
"Now," he said hoarsely.
"Finish what you started."
The Shard Court was silent.
Not out of fear—
But respect.
And for the first time in the cosmic bureaucracy's history…
Ne Job bowed.
Hands clenched. Head lowered. Soul shaking.
Not as a joke.
Not as an insult.
As acknowledgement.
To a courier who had chosen to carry his fate.
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End of Chapter 180.