Chapter 7 – The Office Printer Demon
The Bureau of Celestial Affairs had many departments that Ne Job had already learned to fear. There was the Accounting of Karma (where ghostly accountants whispered numbers at you until you lost your will to live), and the Heavenly Auditing Division (where Assistant Yue once spent twelve straight hours arguing over whether a soul's bad haircut counted as a sin).
But today, Ne Job discovered something far worse.
"Intern," said Assistant Yue, dropping a stack of scrolls taller than herself onto his desk. "It's your turn to handle the Office Printer Demon."
Ne Job blinked. "The… what?"
"The copy department," Yue explained with grim finality. "Every form must be duplicated in triplicate and stamped, or else the Shard Court Judge will throw them back in our faces. You'll need the demon's cooperation."
Ne Job rubbed his temples. "You're telling me there's a demon… inside a printer?"
Yue adjusted her glasses. "No. The demon is the printer."
---
The Copy Department was located in a dim corridor that smelled faintly of burnt paper and despair. At the end sat a hulking, obsidian machine with glowing runes carved along its sides. Chains rattled around its frame, and a pair of blood-red eyes blinked from within the paper tray.
"WHO DISTURBS MY SLUMBER?" boomed the printer demon, smoke puffing from its vents.
Ne Job jumped back. "Uh—me! Ne Job, the intern. I just need to… you know, print some forms?"
The demon's tray-mouth curled into something resembling a grin. "FORMS. YES. I HUNGER FOR FORMS. FEED ME."
Assistant Yue nudged Ne Job forward with her clipboard. "Put the originals in."
Hands shaking, Ne Job slid the first scroll into the feeder. The machine rumbled, the runes glowing brighter. With a guttural growl, the demon spat out a single copy—smudged, off-center, and with mysterious bite marks in the corner.
"Uh…" Ne Job held it up. "Is this… acceptable?"
The demon roared: "I DEMAND SACRIFICE."
"Sacrifice?!" Ne Job squeaked.
"Staples," Yue clarified dryly. "Give it a box of staples."
Ne Job dug around, found a fresh box, and tossed it into the tray. The demon swallowed it whole, crunching metal like popcorn. Then it spat out three pristine, perfectly aligned copies of the form.
Ne Job gawked. "That's it? It just wants… office supplies?"
"Mostly," Yue said. "Sometimes toner, sometimes souls. Depends on its mood."
"TONER IS LOW," the demon moaned, its voice echoing like a temple bell. "REPLACE OR PERISH."
---
What followed was the most harrowing twenty minutes of Ne Job's short intern career.
Every time he thought he'd satisfied the printer demon, it demanded something new. A fresh ribbon. A scented candle. A playlist of motivational chanting. At one point, it demanded "a poem about its beauty," and Ne Job had to improvise:
"Oh mighty printer, so sleek, so black,
Please don't eat me, or my soul you'll snack…"
The demon purred and spat out ten flawless scrolls.
By the end, Ne Job was dripping with sweat, clutching an armful of stamped documents like they were holy relics. "I… I survived."
Assistant Yue checked his work. "Not bad. Only one form misaligned."
Ne Job groaned. "What happens if the Shard Court Judge sees that one?"
Yue's expression darkened. "Pray he doesn't."
---
Ne Job staggered back to his cubicle, only to find Lord Bureaucrat Xian waiting for him. The senior official stood like a looming mountain, his elaborate robes rustling, his mustache bristling with authority.
"Intern!" Xian barked. "Where are the duplicates for Case 438B? The mortal petition about reincarnation into a cat?"
Ne Job nearly dropped the forms. "R-right here, Lord Xian!"
Xian snatched them, flipping through each page with the speed of a hawk spotting prey. His eyes narrowed at the single misaligned copy.
"This…" he hissed, "…is crooked."
"It was the demon!" Ne Job blurted. "I swear I tried everything—"
Xian's glare could have incinerated mountains. "Do you know what happens when documents are crooked?"
Ne Job swallowed. "Uh… they… still work?"
"They anger the Shard Court Judge!" Xian thundered. "And if the Judge is angered, the backlog doubles! If the backlog doubles, we all suffer!"
Yue whispered from behind her clipboard: "He means unpaid overtime."
Ne Job went pale. "N-no, not unpaid overtime!"
Lord Xian jabbed a finger at him. "You will return to the Copy Department. You will appease the demon. You will make this right!"
---
Back at the printer demon, Ne Job found the machine sulking. Smoke puffed from its vents, and it refused to power on.
"I AM UNAPPRECIATED," it growled. "NO ONE VALUES MY WORK. THEY JUST CURSE ME WHEN I JAM."
Ne Job blinked. "Wait… you're sulking?"
The demon's tray-mouth quivered. "I HAVE FEELINGS."
Ne Job sighed, rubbing his temples. "Great. First day on the job and I'm already giving therapy to a printer."
Still, he crouched down and tried. "Look, I get it. Everyone thinks interns are useless too. They dump the boring stuff on me, blame me when things go wrong. But… you know what? You're important. Without you, nothing gets filed. You keep the Bureau running."
The demon's eyes flickered. "YOU… UNDERSTAND ME?"
"I mean, kinda," Ne Job admitted. "We're both stuck here, right? At least you don't have to attend orientation seminars about proper scroll-folding."
The machine rumbled thoughtfully. Then, with a soft whirr, it spat out the missing perfect copy.
Assistant Yue raised an eyebrow. "You got it to cooperate?"
Ne Job grinned weakly. "Guess we bonded. Demon-to-intern solidarity."
The printer demon whispered, almost tenderly: "RETURN SOON. I CRAVE YOUR COMPANY."
Ne Job shuddered. "Yeah, uh… we'll see."
---
Back in his cubicle, Ne Job handed the corrected set to Lord Xian.
The Bureaucrat examined it closely, nodded, and finally said, "Adequate."
Ne Job collapsed into his chair, exhausted but relieved.
Just as he began to relax, a courier spirit flapped into the office, dropping a sealed directive onto Xian's desk. The lord broke the wax seal, scanned the scroll, and froze.
His mustache trembled. "By the Jade Emperor's decree… an Audit Team from Heaven will be arriving in three days."
The entire office went silent. Even Yue's clipboard wavered.
Ne Job sat up, confused. "Uh… what's the big deal about an audit?"
Every head in the Bureau turned toward him in horror.
Yue whispered like a curse: "The Audit from Heaven never just checks paperwork. They… destroy interns."
Ne Job blinked. "Wait. WHAT?!"