Chapter 25 – The Celestial Complaint Department
The morning fog over the Heavenly Administration Bureau was thicker than usual—thick enough to hide the scowling face of Assistant Yue, who stood at Ne Job's desk holding a stack of glowing forms labeled "Official Complaints – Urgent Priority."
Ne Job, meanwhile, was asleep face-first on a divine ledger, drooling onto an entry titled "Reason for delay: intern existential crisis."
"Ne Job."
No response.
"Ne Job!"
Yue slammed the stack down. The impact sent a tremor through the office, and the divine paper cranes flying above the cubicles scattered like startled pigeons.
Ne Job shot up. "I WASN'T SLEEPING! I WAS... deeply meditating on bureaucratic philosophy."
"Your 'philosophy' just soaked through a Grade-A Celestial Complaint form," Yue said coldly, peeling the damp parchment off Ne Job's cheek. "You've been assigned to the Complaint Department for the week."
Ne Job blinked. "There's a department for that?"
"There is now. Thanks to your 'helpful' suggestion in last week's feedback box."
---
The Complaint Abyss
The Complaint Department was hidden in the lowest level of the Bureau, past the Office of Missing Gods and the breakroom where forgotten immortals played Mahjong in eternal silence.
The room itself looked like a cosmic mail pit — glowing complaint scrolls floated midair, orbiting a central vortex of paperwork. A lone immortal sat at a desk, surrounded by an avalanche of forms.
He looked up slowly. "Ah. Another volunteer."
"Volunteer?" Ne Job whispered to Yue. "I didn't volunteer."
"That's the spirit," Yue said flatly, shoving him forward.
The immortal extended a trembling hand. "I am Senior Clerk Mo, condemned to process divine complaints since the Fall of the Jade Index. May your soul survive."
Ne Job grinned. "I'm sure it's not that bad!"
A scroll dropped into his hands, sizzling like a bomb.
He unrolled it—
> Complaint #87291:
Filed by: The God of Sudden Rain
Issue: "Someone keeps scheduling my storms during weddings. I demand an apology and compensation in divine credit."
Ne Job smirked. "Easy. Just reschedule him."
Clerk Mo's eyes twitched. "We tried that. He filed another complaint for 'unauthorized rescheduling.'"
Another scroll exploded open.
> Complaint #87292:
Filed by: The God of Paperwork
Issue: "Someone misspelled my name as 'Paperwok.' Unacceptable."
Ne Job froze. "...that was me."
Mo sighed. "Then congratulations. You're already infamous."
---
The Flood of Grievances
By noon, Ne Job's desk looked like a battlefield. Scrolls piled high, glowing with divine fury.
He opened one marked CRITICAL LEVEL RED.
> Complaint #90001:
Filed by: Lord Bureaucrat Xian
Issue: "My intern, Ne Job, failed to file a single report correctly for three consecutive days. I want him audited, purified, and possibly recycled."
Ne Job stared in silence.
Then looked up at Yue, who had been quietly sipping divine tea.
"You— you knew about this, didn't you?"
"Of course. I filed it on his behalf," Yue said. "He was too busy yelling at his coffee."
Ne Job slammed his head onto the desk. "Why does Heaven hate me?"
"Statistically speaking," Yue replied, "your complaint rate per day is the highest in celestial history."
Just as Ne Job was about to respond, the vortex in the center of the room pulsed ominously. Scrolls began flying out like missiles.
Mo screamed, "It's happening again! The backlog's angry!"
"What do we do?!" Ne Job shouted.
"Appease it!"
"How?!"
"With paperwork!"
---
Operation: Pacify the Paperstorm
The room turned into chaos. Scrolls spiraled like angry spirits, slamming into desks and exploding into complaint echoes—"Injustice!" "Delay!" "Lack of snacks!"
Ne Job ducked under a desk. "Yue, I think they're sentient!"
"Just file faster!" Yue barked, batting a complaint away with her clipboard.
Ne Job grabbed a glowing quill and began scribbling furiously.
"Resolved. Resolved. Reassigned. Blame mortal error. Send apology fruit basket—oh no, out of fruit baskets!"
He improvised:
"Send apology cloud basket."
The scrolls hesitated midair.
Yue looked impressed. "That… actually worked?"
"Yeah!" Ne Job grinned. "Paperwork diplomacy!"
Another scroll hit him in the face.
> Complaint #90002:
Filed by: Princess Ling
Issue: "Ne Job still owes me a signed apology for turning my phoenix into a courier bird."
Ne Job paled. "...Oh. That one's legit."
Before Yue could scold him, Clerk Mo cried out, "It's no use! The vortex is evolving!"
The center of the room split open, revealing a colossal, glowing entity made entirely of paperwork—faces of angry gods and mortals merging into one swirling mass.
"BEHOLD," it thundered, "I AM THE SPIRIT OF COMPLAINTS! YOU FILED ME INTO EXISTENCE!"
Ne Job's jaw dropped. "We… filed too hard?"
The Spirit raised its quill-arm. "YOU SHALL BE RETURNED—IN TRIPLICATE!"
---
The Paperwork Battle
Scrolls became whips. Stamps turned into bombs. The spirit hurled grievance forms like comets.
Yue formed seals in midair, summoning barriers of approval slips. "I can hold it for ten minutes!"
"Make it five—I've got a stupid idea!" Ne Job shouted, dashing toward the vortex.
"Define 'stupid!'" Yue yelled.
Ne Job grabbed a divine pen and began writing on a massive blank scroll, shouting as he wrote:
> "OFFICIAL RESOLUTION NOTICE – The Spirit of Complaints has fulfilled its purpose and is hereby PROMOTED to Quality Control Manager!"
The vortex paused.
"Promoted?" it echoed.
"Yes!" Ne Job said quickly. "You're no longer a grievance—you're management! You can oversee all complaints instead of being one!"
The spirit blinked—its form shimmered, paperwork folding neatly into a humanoid figure wearing a glowing badge:
"Quality Control Manager – Probationary."
"…I ACCEPT THIS POSITION," it boomed, then dissolved into a flurry of golden dust. The vortex stabilized. Scrolls neatly stacked themselves.
Yue exhaled in disbelief. "You… promoted a cosmic disaster."
"Hey, that's called delegation," Ne Job said proudly.
---
Aftermath
Later that evening, back in the main office, Lord Bureaucrat Xian reviewed the report.
"So," he said slowly, "the intern solved a divine paperwork crisis by creating a new middle management entity?"
Yue nodded. "Yes, my lord."
"And the new entity already sent us its first complaint about 'insufficient managerial authority.'"
Yue sighed. "Also yes."
Lord Xian pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need… a very strong celestial drink."
Outside the door, Ne Job hummed cheerfully, polishing his new badge that read:
"Complaint Assistant (Unpaid, Indefinite Term)."
"Not bad," he said proudly. "Promotion's a promotion!"
A scroll floated past and hit him in the head.
> Complaint #90003:
Filed by: Spirit of Complaints
Issue: "Intern Ne Job failed to submit his onboarding form."
Ne Job groaned. "...I hate paperwork."