📘 Ne Job: Intern to the Divine
Chapter 1: "Welcome to the Heavenly Bureau, Please Don't Touch the Scrolls"
Ne Job had imagined heaven would be clouds, harps, and maybe a buffet. What they got instead was a cubicle, a glowing clipboard, and a manager named Seraphim-12 who spoke exclusively in passive-aggressive Latin.
"Intern Ne Job," the seraph intoned, wings folded like origami, "you are late."
"I died five minutes ago," Ne Job replied. "Technically, I'm early."
Seraphim-12's halo flickered. "Excuses are for mortals. You're divine property now. Sign here."
The clipboard pulsed ominously. Ne Job signed. The pen screamed.
"Welcome to the Heavenly Bureau," Seraphim-12 said. "You're assigned to the Department of Mortal Engagement. Your job is to monitor, influence, and occasionally sabotage mortal creativity."
Ne Job blinked. "Sabotage?"
"Gently. With memes."
They were led past departments like "Dream Licensing," "Reincarnation Logistics," and "Unscheduled Miracles." One hallway was just a loop labeled "Pending Approvals." A cherub had been stuck there since 1453.
Ne Job's desk was a floating slab of marble with a cursed typewriter and a coffee mug labeled "#BlessedButOverworked."
Their first task: sort mortal submissions for divine approval.
The inbox was chaos.
- One mortal had submitted a 900-chapter webnovel about sentient noodles.
- Another had pitched a manga where the protagonist was a reincarnated spreadsheet.
- A third had uploaded 47 identical fanfics titled "My Manager Is a Tanuki."
Ne Job stared. "Do I reject these?"
Seraphim-12 handed them a scroll labeled 'Divine Engagement Protocols.'
Rule 1: All mortal creativity must be judged with divine neutrality.
Rule 2: If it goes viral, pretend it was intentional.
Rule 3: Never approve anything involving talking furniture.
Ne Job approved the spreadsheet manga. It immediately triggered a mortal trend called "Excel-core."
Seraphim-12 sighed. "You've destabilized the algorithm."
Ne Job grinned. "I call that engagement."
Suddenly, the Bureau's alarm system blared—a choir of disapproving angels.
> "Unauthorized meme detected in Sector 7. Deploy the Archangel of Compliance."
A glowing orb descended, speaking in hashtags.
> "You have violated the Terms of Virality. Prepare for celestial audit."
Ne Job grabbed their stylus and a half-eaten cloud bun. "Time to run."
Seraphim-12 blocked the exit. "You're grounded. No mortal access until you file your backlog."
Ne Job opened a forbidden drawer. Inside: a glowing scroll labeled "Narrative Override."
Seraphim-12 gasped. "That's a plot device!"
Ne Job winked. "I'm the protagonist now."
They activated the scroll. Reality warped. The cubicle transformed into a floating storyboard. Seraphim-12 was sucked into a subplot. The Bureau's walls cracked open, revealing a hidden department: Lore Engineering.
Ne Job dove in.