Ne Job: The Intern from Hell — Chapter 145: "The Mandala Breaks"
The world trembled like a page caught in a hurricane.
The Grand Administrative Mandala spun above Lord Bureaucrat Xian—each concentric ring carved from a different foundational law of Heaven. Entire departments flickered in and out of existence within the glowing sectors. Statutes—alive and predatory—spiraled around him like serpents made of procedure.
Ne Job exhaled shakily.
"Okay," he muttered to Yue, "so how do we fight an authority wheel made of every rule ever written?"
Yue didn't blink.
"We make him break his own rules."
"…Got it. No notes. Let's commit criminal divine bureaucracy."
Xian raised a hand.
The Mandala rearranged itself.
Segment One: Enforcement.
Segment Two: Compliance.
Segment Three: Correction.
The three sectors aligned—and fired.
---
The First Strike: Enforcement
A beam of golden script shot down.
Not light.
Not energy.
Actual law.
The Forgotten God of Paperwork leapt in front of the blast, slamming his brush-staff into the ground.
"COUNTER-MOTION!"
A wave of annulment rolled forward, splashing against the beam. A massive explosion of shredded parchment erupted, sending gusts of nullified rulings across the plaza.
When the smoke cleared, the Forgotten God stood tall, but cracks streaked across his form like broken porcelain.
"Still with us?" Ne Job shouted.
The old god nodded. "I exist to record. I will not vanish before this ends."
Xian narrowed his eyes. "You were forgotten for a reason."
"And yet here I stand," the god rumbled.
"Facing the one who should have been forgotten."
For a moment—just a moment—Xian's jaw clenched.
---
The Second Strike: Compliance
The Mandala spun again.
A rain of circular forms materialized overhead.
Yue's pupils shrank. "Oh no."
Ne Job gulped. "Oh yes, those look like—"
—Mandatory Compliance Oaths.
Sheets fell like divine snow, glowing seals poised to bind anyone they touched into eternal obedience.
Princess Ling vault-kicked off Bao's head, spear clashing against falling oaths.
"Weak paper!" she shouted—
Then the paper slapped onto her spear, and the spear suddenly pointed itself away from Xian, refusing to aim at a superior.
"WHAT—LET GO OF MY WEAPON!"
Bao ran under her frantically, trying to peel forms off her legs. "They're sticking to your authority ranking!"
Yue grabbed Ne Job's wrist and spun him. "Do NOT let one touch you—your intern status will bind instantly!"
"Why is everything in this world allergic to interns?!"
Yue dodged, deflected, burned through seals using her manual's clause-correction blade.
Ne Job ducked behind her, swatting papers away with a clipboard like his life depended on it (it did).
Finally, the Evil Manual Spirit shrieked, burst into flame, and devoured the nearest compliance oath like a starved raccoon.
"…It can eat forms?" Ne Job blinked.
"It can eat bad forms," Yue corrected, panting. "It's very picky."
"Same," Ne Job replied grimly.
---
The Third Strike: Correction
Xian lifted two fingers.
The Mandala's innermost ring began to glow—cold, silver, absolute.
Yue froze.
"No. No, that's the—"
"Correction Beam of Absolute Rectification," Xian announced.
Yue turned white. "That's not even supposed to exist outside emergencies!"
Ne Job frowned. "What does it do?"
"It rewrites reality into what the Bureau thinks it should be."
"So… it changes stuff?"
"It changes you. Into whatever Heaven considers your 'ideal compliant state.'"
Ne Job gagged. "That's worse than death!"
Yue grabbed him. "Don't get hit. I can counter procedural beams, but not existential rewriting!"
Xian pointed two fingers downward.
The beam descended.
Reality bent.
Stone liquefied.
Shadows inverted.
The beam was seconds from hitting—
"NOT ON MY WATCH."
A black shape hurled itself into the path—
The Forgotten God of Paperwork.
The beam hit him full force.
He screamed, ink pouring from cracks in his form as the beam tried to rewrite him into something newer… cleaner… obedient.
But the old god roared through it—
"I. WILL. NOT. BE. CORRECTED."
He slammed his brush into the ground.
And the beam faltered.
It cracked.
It recoiled upward—shuddering the Mandala.
For the first time since the fight began—
Xian's balance wavered.
---
Ne Job's Opening
Yue saw it.
"Ne Job—NOW!"
He didn't think.
He sprinted.
Chaos Spark blazing.
Xian's eyes widened—not in fear, but in calculation.
The Mandala rotated to shield him—
But Ne Job wasn't aiming for Xian.
He leapt.
Grabbed the Mandala's lowest ring.
And pulled.
The pain hit him instantly.
The Mandala wasn't a tool.
It was a law.
A living one.
It tried to erase him on contact.
He held on anyway.
"Ne Job!" Yue screamed.
He gritted his teeth. "If this wheel controls Heaven—then guess what—"
The Chaos Spark surged through him, into the law-wheel.
The Mandala flickered.
Segments destabilized.
Xian's head snapped toward him. "LET GO."
Ne Job yelled,
"—I'M FILING A COUNTER-REVISION!"
He tore.
The Mandala shrieked.
A ring snapped free like a broken gear.
Xian staggered as the entire construct lurched.
For the first time in recorded celestial history, the Grand Administrative Mandala—
lost structural integrity.
Yue's voice echoed through the ruins of light and parchment:
"Ne Job… you broke the Mandala."
Ne Job hung from the shattered ring, panting, singed, almost unconscious.
He managed a delirious grin.
"Hey, Yue…?"
"Yes?!"
"Is this… gonna get me in trouble?"
"Yes," she said. "Absolutely. On a cosmic level."
"Cool," Ne Job croaked.
"Just checking."
Xian glared at him—not furious.
Worse.
Offended.
"You dare shatter Heaven's highest authority?"
Ne Job dropped to the ground, wobbling but standing.
Yue took her position at his side.
"We're not done yet," Ne Job said.
Xian lifted his hand.
The broken Mandala began to reassemble—
—but something was wrong.
It flickered.
Stuttered.
Glitched.
Yue inhaled sharply.
"He's losing administrative stability."
Ne Job's eyes widened.
"This is our chance."
The final clash was coming.
And this time—
They had a crack in Heaven itself to exploit.