đź“– Ne Job: The Intern from Hell
Chapter 1 – First Day of Eternal Internship
The Bureau of Celestial Affairs was said to be the most efficient department in the heavens.
Endless marble halls lined with golden pillars stretched into eternity. Scrolls floated neatly in the air, glowing with divine light. Scribes with halos on their heads whispered quietly as they cataloged the destinies of mortals. It was supposed to be a flawless machine of order and discipline.
Supposed to be.
"Do I really have to fill out all of these?" Ne Job asked, voice dripping with despair.
He slouched over his desk, staring at a mountain of forms that towered so high they cast a shadow over him. He could've sworn they were multiplying every time he blinked.
"Yes," Assistant Yue replied flatly.
She didn't even look up from her own stack, her quill flying across the parchment in clean, practiced strokes. A porcelain cup of steaming tea sat perfectly balanced at her side. Not a single drop spilled, even as a stray scroll fluttered dangerously close.
"Form 33-B for mortal birth registrations. Form 78-C for reincarnation transfers. Form 12-Z for divine complaints. And don't forget the triple duplicates."
"Triple duplicates?" Ne Job groaned. He picked up one scroll, shook it like it had personally offended him, and dropped it back on the desk with a thud. "Who even reads this stuff? Can't we just wing it? Mortals won't know."
Yue finally looked up, her dark eyes narrowing. "The heavens will know."
Ne Job dipped his brush into ink. For a moment he appeared to consider writing seriously. Then, with a sly grin, he began to sketch flames, stick figures, and what looked suspiciously like a chicken wearing armor.
"…Are those chickens?" Yue asked in a dangerously calm voice.
"They're fire-breathing chickens," Ne Job said proudly. "Don't worry, I signed my name under them. It's basically official."
Yue set her brush down and massaged her temples. She had survived three celestial audits, two near-apocalypses, and a god-level overtime season, but this intern… this intern might destroy her sanity faster than all of them combined.
Before she could scold him further, the massive bronze doors at the end of the hall slammed open. The impact rattled the shelves and sent a hundred scrolls tumbling like startled birds.
"INTERN!"
Lord Bureaucrat Xian stormed in, his long robes sweeping across the floor, his beard flowing with the weight of celestial authority. Every clerk in the hall straightened like soldiers. Inkpots froze mid-drip.
All except one.
Ne Job lazily sat up, gave a half-hearted salute, and grinned. "Ah, Lord Xian! You look… majestic today. Did you trim your beard? It's really carrying the whole bureaucracy vibe."
The Bureaucrat's eyebrow twitched. His aura flared, cracking the tiles beneath his feet. "You were instructed to file mortal destinies, not—" He snatched up one scroll and squinted. "—not this. Why is there a flaming chicken battling a tax auditor?"
"It's a metaphor," Ne Job explained seriously. "Very deep. Symbolism, you wouldn't get it."
Yue buried her face in her hands. "He burned through five ink pots this morning. Literally burned."
Lord Xian opened his mouth to unleash a divine tirade, but before the words could leave his lips, the air turned icy. A sharp wind swept through the hall, frosting the marble floor and freezing several floating scrolls midair.
Another intern had arrived.
Ao Bing, son of the Dragon King, strode in with impeccable posture. His horns gleamed, his robes sparkled with frost, and in his hands he carried a perfectly balanced stack of paperwork. Not a wrinkle, not a smudge. He bowed deeply before Lord Xian, his voice as smooth as frozen jade.
"Lord Xian, I have completed today's forms ahead of schedule. Cross-referenced, stamped, and sealed in triplicate. Unlike… some people." His eyes flicked toward Ne Job with disdain.
Ne Job sat up straighter, glaring. "Oh wow, congratulations. You finished homework early. Want a medal?"
"It is not homework," Ao Bing replied coolly. "It is duty. Something you clearly cannot comprehend."
Ne Job crossed his arms. "Bet your handwriting's ugly."
Ao Bing's nostrils flared, releasing a puff of frosty mist. "It is divine calligraphy. The Jade Emperor himself would frame it in his palace."
Lord Xian pressed two fingers against his forehead, visibly restraining the urge to smite them both. "One intern burns the forms, another freezes them… why have the heavens cursed me with this?"
Before Yue could comment, a strange sizzling sound filled the air. Everyone turned.
Ne Job's pile of scrolls was smoking.
"Uh," Ne Job said, pointing. "That's… probably fine. Just warming up."
The parchment sparked once. Twice. And then—
BOOM!
A fountain of flames erupted from the stack, blasting into the ceiling. The fire twisted into the shape of a giant chicken with glowing eyes, flapping wings of ash and cinders. Clerks screamed and scattered. Inkpots exploded like fireworks. A minor god fainted into a filing cabinet.
The Flaming Bureaucratic Chicken screeched, scattering burning feathers across the hall. One landed on Ao Bing's perfect stack of paperwork, which immediately caught fire.
Ao Bing let out a horrified gasp. "MY TRIPLE-SEALS!"
Yue dropped her teacup for the first time in her entire career. It shattered on the floor. "This… this is going to be hell."
Ne Job scratched the back of his head, watching the flaming bird wreak havoc. "Sooo… does this mean I still get paid for today?"
Lord Xian's roar shook the heavens. "NE JOB!"