Chapter 24 – The Administrative Possession Crisis
The morning sun rose over Inkvale, but the air still carried the faint scent of burnt paper and bureaucratic despair.
Assistant Yue hadn't slept. She sat on the edge of the inn's bed, tapping her clipboard nervously. Across from her, Ne Job lay sprawled on the floor, surrounded by floating sheets of spectral paperwork that hummed faintly with divine ink.
Every few seconds, one of the papers fluttered down to his face and stamped itself.
He didn't wake up.
He just muttered, "Form received… please wait three to five business days…"
Yue rubbed her temples. "He's literally dreaming in forms."
The innkeeper peeked through the door. "Miss, your intern's possessed, right? Should I… get a priest?"
Yue sighed. "If you can find one who accepts celestial insurance."
The innkeeper slowly backed out.
---
The New Problem
By noon, Ne Job finally stirred. His eyes glowed faintly blue, and several pages floated behind him like ghostly tails. His voice carried a strange echo.
"Good morning, Assistant Yue… or should I say… Co-Signer of Fate?"
Yue immediately activated her divine seal. "Oh no. Nope. We're not doing this. Snap out of it."
Ne Job blinked, dazed. "What happened? Why do I feel like I swallowed a library?"
"You merged with the ghost," Yue explained flatly. "Your divine energy bound itself to the Administrative Residue Cluster. You're now… half paperwork."
He looked down at his arm. Faint ink lines ran across his skin like glowing tattoos, occasionally rearranging into barcodes. "Cool! Does this mean I can print things from my hands?"
"Don't even try."
"I'm gonna try."
Yue grabbed her clipboard. "If you so much as generate a single invoice—"
But it was too late. Ne Job raised his hand dramatically. A puff of blue mist erupted, followed by a neatly printed slip that fluttered to the floor.
He picked it up and frowned. "It's a—uh—'Notice of Spiritual Instability, Section D: Intern-Class Entities.'"
Yue snatched it. "That's an auto-generated warning. It means Heaven already detected the anomaly."
"So… we're in trouble?"
"Oh, beyond trouble. The Audit Squad will arrive any moment."
---
Arrival of the Audit Squad
The sky above Inkvale darkened. A golden rift opened, and six figures descended — angels in immaculate suits, wings folded neatly like pressed documents. At their head stood Ao Bing, immaculate as ever, clipboard tucked under his arm and not a single hair out of place.
"Ne Job," Ao Bing said coldly, "you have violated Article 13 of the Celestial Work Code: Unauthorized Integration with a Classified Entity."
Ne Job smiled weakly. "I can explain! You see, the ghost tried to—uh—merge my… paperwork?"
Yue interjected. "Technically, he completed a form using symbolic authorization under emergency clause C-9. The merger was accidental."
Ao Bing's eyes narrowed. "The clause only applies to authorized staff. Interns don't qualify."
Ne Job pointed a finger at himself. "Then promote me!"
"Denied."
Two audit angels stepped forward, holding glowing chains. "By order of Heaven's Bureau of Containment, you are to be detained for debriefing and soul verification."
Yue blocked their path. "Wait! If you take him now, the ghost's energy could destabilize. He's the anchor holding it together!"
Ao Bing hesitated. "Explain."
She opened her clipboard, showing fluctuating readings. "Removing him prematurely could cause a paperwork explosion—every unfinished form in a hundred-mile radius could reanimate."
Ao Bing's expression shifted slightly. "Reanimate?"
"As in: walking stacks of tax forms attacking mortals."
The Audit Squad exchanged worried glances. One muttered, "Last time that happened, the entire Jade Market needed re-registration."
Ne Job grinned. "So, I'm… indispensable now?"
Ao Bing sighed. "Unfortunately. Temporary exemption granted."
Yue exhaled in relief. "Thank the heavens."
"But," Ao Bing added sharply, "if your condition worsens, we will seal you on the spot."
"Fair," Ne Job said quickly. "I'd seal me too."
---
Testing the Merge
To monitor his state, they set up a temporary Celestial Base in Inkvale's old town hall. Ne Job sat in the middle of a glowing formation, surrounded by stacks of forms and diagnostic crystals.
Yue adjusted her glasses. "Try channeling divine power at twenty percent."
He focused. His eyes glowed, papers lifted, and a circle of light formed—then suddenly multiplied.
"Ne Job, stop!"
"I'm trying!"
The light spread outward, and every sheet in the hall came alive—writing on themselves, stamping themselves, filing into neat towers.
Ao Bing's clipboard beeped. "He's generating auto-administrative loops!"
Ne Job looked panicked. "I can't turn it off! It's processing something!"
"What something?!"
He glanced at the floating forms and read aloud, horrified: "—'Mass Distribution of Performance Reviews, Department: Afterlife Intern Division.'"
Yue's eyes widened. "You're auto-evaluating Heaven's interns!"
Ao Bing's expression went from calm to very calm—the kind of calm that meant rage was near. "Cancel it. Now."
Ne Job flailed. "I don't know how!"
Paper flooded the room, attaching itself to every surface. Glowing stamps appeared midair, slamming down onto documents faster than anyone could react.
Yue shouted, "Redirect it through the feedback node! Channel it into an external buffer!"
"Where's that?!"
"My clipboard!"
He slammed his hand on it, transferring the overflow. The papers froze midair—then vanished in a flash.
Everyone exhaled in relief.
Then Ao Bing's communicator buzzed.
A voice from Heaven's HR department echoed:
"Attention all units — an unscheduled evaluation has been processed. All interns are now ranked relative to Ne Job."
Ao Bing slowly turned to glare at him. "You just… restructured the celestial intern hierarchy."
Ne Job gave a weak smile. "So… does that make me top intern?"
Yue checked her tablet. "No. It says 'Intern Benchmark 0 — used as negative reference.'"
He blinked. "Negative?"
Ao Bing pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are now officially the metric for how not to perform."
Ne Job groaned. "Even when I win, I lose."
---
Internal Conflict
That night, Ne Job sat alone in the courtyard. Moonlight reflected off floating sheets orbiting lazily around him. His thoughts felt heavy, like stapled stacks of regret.
He whispered, "Hey, ghost… you still in there?"
A faint whisper answered from within him: "YES… CO-SIGNER…"
He winced. "Stop calling me that. Are you, like, alive-alive?"
"WE… ARE ONE. YOUR ENERGY FEEDS THE SYSTEM. YOUR WILL GUIDES THE FILES."
He scratched his head. "Cool, but can you not auto-send evaluations?"
"PROCESSING REQUEST… REJECTED. THAT FUNCTION IS MANDATORY."
He groaned. "Figures."
The ghost's voice softened. "WE SEEK COMPLETION. YOU… LEFT MANY FORMS… UNFINISHED."
"Yeah," Ne Job muttered. "My whole existence feels like an unfinished form."
Suddenly, his body tensed. Blue light surged through his veins. He gasped, clutching his chest as the ghost's energy flared.
Yue burst through the door. "Ne Job!"
The papers around him ignited, swirling into a vortex. He looked up, eyes glowing bright cyan. "It's happening again!"
Ao Bing appeared behind her, summoning his spear. "He's overloading! The merger's destabilizing!"
Yue shouted, "Wait! There's a pattern—it's reacting to Heaven's audit frequency!"
Ao Bing's communicator buzzed. A voice from above spoke rapidly:
"Attention—unidentified resonance detected from Inkvale. Sending automatic containment pulse."
"NO!" Yue yelled. "If that pulse hits him—"
But before she could finish, a beam of golden light struck from the sky, slamming into Ne Job.
He screamed, the ground cracking beneath him. Papers exploded outward like a divine storm, forming glowing sigils in the air.
When the light faded, a deep silence followed.
Yue stumbled forward, coughing from the dust. "Ne Job?"
Ao Bing's eyes widened. "He's gone."
"No…" Yue whispered, scanning the area. "He can't be…"
The air shimmered. A glowing stack of documents floated down gently and opened itself.
At the top, stamped in crimson, were the words:
"TRANSFER REQUEST: Ne Job – Status: Pending Ascension to Administrative Entity."
Yue's blood ran cold. "They… approved his transformation?"
Ao Bing's voice was barely above a whisper. "He's being drafted into the Bureau itself."
A shadow formed behind them — the silhouette of Ne Job, now made of light and ink, wearing a flowing celestial robe of documents. His voice echoed with a calm, haunting tone:
"Processing… completed. Intern status: upgraded."
Yue's clipboard trembled. "Ne Job, what did you do?"
He looked at her — smiling faintly, eyes glowing like sealed wax.
"I didn't do anything," he said softly. "Heaven… finally promoted me."