Ne Job: The Intern from Hell — Chapter 144: "Stamp of Rejection"
The air charged like a storm ready to split Heaven in two.
Ne Job stood at the head of his mismatched lineup—Yue at his right, the Forgotten God of Paperwork towering behind them, Princess Ling igniting her jade spear with humming fury, Dreivery Spirit Bao wobbling but determined, and even the Evil Manual Spirit hovering like a skulking gremlin ready to bite someone's ankles.
Across the plaza, Lord Bureaucrat Xian stood alone… but the authority radiating from him was enough to warp the marble beneath his feet.
One man.
Against everyone.
Yet somehow, it still felt like everyone was outmatched.
Xian flicked his wrist.
A single strip of divine parchment appeared between his fingers.
He didn't chant. He didn't posture.
He simply stamped it.
THOOM.
A shockwave rippled out, flattening ash, kicking up shards, and forcing Ne Job's group to brace.
Yue skidded back half a foot. "That wasn't even a form—that was a stamp!"
Xian lowered his arm, unimpressed. "If you believe your collective insubordination warrants more than a Stamp of Rejection, you overestimate your relevance."
Ne Job tightened his fists. "You're really not going to talk this out, huh?"
"For the last time," Xian replied coldly, "Heaven does not negotiate with interns."
Before Ne Job could lunge, Princess Ling burst forward instead.
Her spear traced a luminous arc through the air. "You've wronged my kingdom, manipulated my sister, and insulted my allies—!"
Xian raised his hand lazily.
CLACK.
A single paper slip intercepted the spear and deflected it like swatting a fly. The force sent Princess Ling spinning through the air.
"LING!" Ne Job sprinted to catch her—
But Bao, of all people, bloomed with purple delivery-smoke and caught her midair.
"I got ya, princess… whoa, you're heavier than you look—ACK!"
She elbowed him reflexively.
Xian sighed.
The Forgotten God stepped forward, parchment swirling.
"This disorder ends now."
Xian's eyes narrowed. "You dare challenge me? A subordinate god composed of expired forms?"
"I am the record of Heaven's mistakes," the Forgotten God thundered. "And you have authored most of them."
He thrust his brush-staff.
A tidal wave of ink charged forward.
Xian flicked his fan.
The ink froze—and turned into a rain of harmless approval stamps.
Yue whispered, "He countered a divine tidal form with a fan flick—how broken is he?"
Ne Job exhaled shakily. "I've been asking that the whole time."
Xian's voice boomed across the plaza:
"I will give you one chance. Submit, recant your accusations, and I shall consider reducing the penalty from erasure to eternal probation."
Ne Job spat blood.
"No."
Xian raised a brow. "No?"
"Not just me." Ne Job nodded at his group. "We're not kneeling."
A beat.
Xian inhaled slowly… and the sky dimmed.
Clouds spun overhead. Divine sigils ignited around him like orbiting suns. Pages of celestial law whirled into a storm, forming a colossal wheel behind him.
Yue's face drained of color. "Oh no. He's invoking the—"
"The Grand Administrative Mandala," the Forgotten God finished grimly. "His ultimate authority."
The Mandala opened like an iris.
A beam of pure procedural force blasted downward—
straight at Ne Job.
He squeezed his eyes shut—
—but nothing hit.
When he opened them, Yue stood in front of him, arms outstretched, her barrier cracking like thin ice but holding.
"You… aren't taking him," she whispered.
Xian tilted his head. "Assistant Yue. You extend protection to an intern? That is a violation of—"
"File the violation later!" Yue shouted, her voice ringing with uncharacteristic fury. "Right now, he's mine to supervise."
Ne Job blinked. "…That sounded weird."
"Shut up," she hissed, struggling.
The barrier fractured further.
The Mandala's pressure increased.
Yue buckled.
Ne Job grabbed her shoulders. "Yue! Stop! You'll—"
"I'm not letting you get erased," she said through clenched teeth.
The barrier shattered—
—and the beam consumed them both.
Or it should have.
Instead…
A new seal flared beneath their feet.
Soft.
Warm.
Circular.
A badge.
Their badge.
The Intern–Assistant Paired Seal, forged from every mission, every absurd mess, every shared complaint, every ridiculous moment they scraped through together.
A bond they never registered because Heaven had no form for it.
Their combined seal absorbed the blast and exploded outward in a burst of light.
Xian's Mandala trembled.
He took a single step back.
A single step.
It was the first time anyone had ever seen him move from force rather than choice.
The plaza fell into stunned silence.
Ne Job and Yue stood together, glowing with the faint shimmer of their merged seal.
Xian stared.
"…Impossible."
Ne Job grinned.
"Guess Heaven needs to update its forms."
Yue added, "We'll draft the revision for you if you want."
For the first time, Xian's mask of perfect calm cracked.
Just slightly.
"Then show me," he whispered, "what you believe qualifies you to revise Heaven."
The Mandala roared back to life.
The next strike would not be a test.
It would be annihilation.
Ne Job cracked his knuckles.
Yue rolled her shoulders.
Behind them, their entire ragtag army braced.
The storm broke.
The real fight began.