Chapter 22 – The HR Department of Reincarnation
Heaven's elevator had no buttons.
It simply judged your soul and decided where you should go.
For Ne Job and Assistant Yue, that meant an express trip straight to the HR Department of Reincarnation — a realm few dared to visit voluntarily.
The elevator doors opened with a chime that somehow sounded both divine and passive-aggressive.
A sign above read:
> "Welcome to HR: Where Every Complaint Is Eternal."
Ne Job gulped. "Smells like regret and incense."
Yue adjusted her clipboard. "Behave. HR handles all reincarnation processing and disciplinary petitions. One wrong word, and they'll file us instead."
They stepped inside a colossal office glowing with white mist and bureaucracy. Thousands of spirits queued in endless lines, holding celestial complaint forms marked 'Unfair Deaths,' 'Mortal Misassignments,' and 'Accidental Frog Rebirths.'
Overworked cherubs flew around carrying stacks of glowing scrolls, muttering: "Next soul, please! No, you can't be reborn as a K-pop idol again!"
Ne Job's eyes widened. "So this is where karma goes to die."
A nearby clerk sighed, stamping papers. "No, that's the Marketing Department. We just process the fallout."
---
They were directed to Room 404 – Director Ling's Office.
On the door, a gold plaque read:
> Director Ling, HR Division (Reincarnation & Retribution).
Motto: "Your next life depends on your attitude."
Yue straightened. "Princess Ling runs this department herself. Be respectful."
Ne Job groaned. "Royalty again? Can't Heaven hire normal people?"
The door slid open before he could finish.
Inside, Princess Ling sat at a desk made of crystal lotus petals, filling out forms with impossible grace. Her presence radiated authority, beauty — and the unmistakable aura of someone who enjoys disciplinary power.
"Assistant Yue," she said calmly. "And... the intern."
Her gaze shifted to Ne Job. "You again."
Ne Job forced a smile. "Always a pleasure, Your Bureaucratic Highness."
Her brow twitched. "Flattery won't shorten your paperwork."
---
Yue presented the sealed report. "Audit results: Director Bao found guilty of systematic luck redistribution, bribery of spirits, and abuse of mortal probability flow. Case closed, pending reincarnation review."
Ling scanned the documents, nodding. "Efficient work, as usual."
Then she turned to Ne Job. "Except for this."
She tapped one page, and Ne Job's face paled.
It was a written complaint — stamped and signed — by none other than Director Bao.
> "Filed under clause 9B: Intern-induced property damage, reckless interference with fortune pipelines, and unauthorized reality distortion."
Ne Job pointed accusingly. "He's literally in reincarnation prison!"
"Still allowed to file paperwork," Ling said serenely. "HR never discriminates."
He groaned. "This system is evil."
"That's why it's called Heavenly Retribution."
---
A golden scroll floated toward him.
"Per regulation," Ling said, "the accused must attend a Reincarnation Hearing to testify before sentencing. You, intern, are the primary witness — and possible co-defendant."
Ne Job blinked. "Wait, co-defendant?!"
Yue whispered, "Technically, you did overload the luck conduit and cause six mortals to win lotteries simultaneously."
"Team effort!" Ne Job protested. "Also, those mortals were really happy!"
Ling's pen paused. "Happiness isn't a legal defense."
Yue sighed. "He's still learning the fundamentals of divine accountability."
Ling smirked slightly. "Then let's accelerate his education."
She pressed a rune on her desk.
---
The floor shifted.
In an instant, Ne Job and Yue were standing in a vast, circular courtroom — a glowing amphitheater of floating scrolls, each representing a past reincarnation record.
At the center stood Director Bao, bound by karmic chains, looking smug despite glowing restraints.
He sneered. "Nice of you to join, intern. I requested this hearing personally."
"Why?" Ne Job asked suspiciously.
"To prove Heaven's hypocrisy," Bao said. "They call it balance, but they just fear innovation. You saw how mortals adored my system — instant fortune delivery! Divine streaming!"
The audience — a mix of clerks, auditors, and reborn spirits — murmured.
Yue whispered, "He's turning this into a spectacle."
Bao pointed dramatically. "This intern tampered with the conduit! He caused more chaos than I ever did! I demand shared accountability!"
Ne Job folded his arms. "Oh please. You corrupted karma because you were bored."
"And you," Bao retorted, "lit a mortal trash heap on fire during your arrival."
Ne Job grinned. "That's called a warm welcome."
---
Princess Ling's voice thundered. "Order!"
All sound froze. Even the audience's spirit wisps shivered.
She fixed her gaze on Ne Job. "Intern, do you deny your involvement in the conduit surge?"
Ne Job scratched his head. "Uh… I deny knowing what that means."
Ling sighed. "Honesty noted. Ignorance is not absolution."
Yue stepped forward. "Director Bao's manipulation caused the instability. My intern acted to contain it, albeit recklessly."
Bao scoffed. "Contain? He nearly turned himself into a statistical anomaly!"
Ne Job interjected, "For the record, I was statistically charming."
Ling's glare silenced him instantly.
---
After hours of celestial testimony, the scrolls began to glow — the Court's verdict forming in golden script.
Then, unexpectedly, the words wavered.
Yue frowned. "The karmic balance grid— it's fluctuating again!"
Ling's eyes widened. "Impossible. The conduits were sealed!"
A booming voice echoed through the chamber:
"NEW COMPLAINT REGISTERED: UNKNOWN ORIGIN."
A crimson scroll materialized midair, spinning violently. The seal read:
> Filed by: The Forgotten God of Paperwork
Charge: Unauthorized meddling with divine documentation.
Ling's expression hardened. "That's… ancient authority. His cases haven't been opened in millennia."
The scroll cracked open, releasing a shockwave of red light.
Papers flew, chains shattered — Bao's bindings dissolved.
He laughed. "Looks like someone up there wants a sequel!"
Ling snapped her fingers, summoning defensive wards. "Security! Contain him—"
But the energy flared too quickly. The courtroom fragmented, splitting reality into streams of fluttering karmic pages.
As the chaos consumed the chamber, Ne Job shouted, "Why is it always paperwork?!"
Yue grabbed his arm. "Because, intern— paperwork is eternal!"
And then they were both swallowed by the crimson vortex.