Ne Job: The Intern from Hell — Chapter 138: "The Manifested Backlog"
The courtyard was gone.
In its place stretched a warped void of parchment and ink—an endless maze of floating documents, shredded forms, and phantom stamps burning through the air like fireflies. Ne Job and Yue stood at its center, their Bureau insignias flickering like dying stars.
The Manifested Backlog loomed above them, towering as tall as the Bureau's tallest archives, its body formed from countless unresolved cases. Its voice shook the void:
"ALL PENDING REQUESTS… DEMAND RESOLUTION."
Ne Job's pen trembled in his hand. "I hate that even cosmic monsters talk like management."
Yue spun her quill in her fingers, her expression cold and sharp. "Focus. That thing feeds on procrastination. Every delay, every unsigned file—it's using our inefficiency as power."
"Then it's practically invincible," Ne Job muttered.
"Not if we process faster than it consumes."
She pointed at the creature's chest, where a massive glowing seal—half-formed and flickering—pulsed like a heartbeat. "That's the Core Ledger. If we can stamp it complete, we end the storm."
Ne Job exhaled. "So… paperwork combat again."
Yue smirked. "You're improving at it."
The storm howled as the Manifested Backlog swung one massive arm, made of jagged parchment, through the air. A hurricane of rejected forms sliced toward them. Ne Job dodged, barely—pages cut the stone floor like razors, leaving glowing audit marks wherever they landed.
"FORMS… UNFILED…" the monster bellowed. "REQUESTS… RETURNED TO SENDER."
Yue snapped open her divine ledger, chanting: "Section 32-C, Counter-Processing Protocol!" A luminous sigil erupted beneath her feet. Quills formed out of light, orbiting her like blades.
Ne Job grabbed one mid-spin and plunged forward, stabbing into the storm with ink that glowed bright gold. Every stroke left behind trails of approved signatures, cutting through the creature's form like divine fire.
For every line Yue validated, the creature's body unraveled a little more—until it retaliated.
The air thickened. Folders the size of carriages slammed into them, stamped with DENIED, VOID, INCOMPLETE.
Ne Job was thrown backward, rolling through a mound of ancient petitions. He groaned. "This is why interns quit on the first week!"
Yue caught him by the collar and yanked him up. "You're not quitting."
"Didn't say I was!" Ne Job's pen flared again. "Just complaining professionally!"
The Core Ledger pulsed violently now, releasing shockwaves of red ink that splattered across the void. Every drop that landed became a duplicate of the Backlog—smaller, but multiplying.
"Copy cases," Yue realized, eyes widening. "It's cloning itself through unresolved entries!"
Ne Job clenched his jaw. "Then we don't just sign. We close."
He pressed his palm against the nearest clone's body. His Bureau crest glowed. "Case #0001 through infinity—finalized!"
A blinding surge of light spread from his hand, consuming the clones in cascading stamps of APPROVED, CLOSED, COMPLETED. Each one dissolved into blue ash.
The main Backlog roared, reeling.
"Now!" Yue shouted. "Seal the Core!"
Ne Job and Yue leapt together, quills raised high. Their glyphs intertwined—her precision, his chaos.
"By authority of the Bureau of Heaven's Endless Workweek," they shouted,
"—we hereby finalize your existence!"
Their combined stamp struck the Core Ledger.
A thunderclap of approval echoed across realms. The Backlog's massive form crumpled inward, its pages scattering into gentle white flakes. The Paperstorm subsided, leaving behind silence and faint golden light drifting like snow.
Ne Job dropped to his knees, panting. "Tell me we're getting overtime for that."
Yue gave a tired but genuine smile. "You'll get something better. You just saved Heaven's workflow."
He grinned faintly. "Still unpaid, though."
Before Yue could retort, a shadow fell over them.
Lord Bureaucrat Xian descended, robes billowing, expression grave. "Intern. Assistant Yue. You've stabilized the storm—but the root cause remains unresolved."
Ne Job frowned. "Root cause? We just vaporized the paperwork kaiju!"
Xian's eyes narrowed. "That storm wasn't natural. Someone unleashed the Backlog intentionally."
The air chilled.
Yue's hand froze over her quill. "You mean…"
Xian nodded slowly. "There's a traitor in the Bureau."