Ne Job: The Intern from Hell — Chapter 146: "The Rule That Was Never Written"
The fractured Mandala spun unevenly above Lord Bureaucrat Xian, its gears sparking with raw statute-energy. Segments continued reattaching themselves, but the perfect symmetry—its divine authority—was gone. Every rotation groaned like an ancient machine forced to operate outside its design.
Ne Job wobbled on his feet, still clutching the ring he'd ripped off. His fingers were numb, his arms shaking, but the Chaos Spark crackled proudly across his chest.
Yue braced him with one hand, eyes locked on Xian.
"He's vulnerable, Ne Job. Not defeated—but destabilized."
Ne Job nodded, teeth clenched.
"Then let's make sure he stays that way."
Xian lowered his arm.
The Mandala stuttered and flickered, then unleashed a pulse of golden rulescript.
Everyone braced—
But the pulse didn't strike them.
It struck Xian.
For the first time, a tremor passed through his posture, almost like pain.
Princess Ling blinked. "Did… he just get hit by his own authority?"
Bao circled nervously. "His Mandala is reverting to autonomous enforcement mode! It cannot determine master from violator!"
The Forgotten God of Paperwork rasped, "He built a system so absolute it has turned on him the moment perfection cracked."
Xian's eyes flashed. "SILENCE."
The Mandala obeyed that command instantly.
But the delay—half a heartbeat—was visible to everyone.
Yue stepped forward.
"This is it. He isn't fighting us anymore."
Ne Job raised a brow. "Pretty sure he still is?"
"No," Yue said, voice steady. "He's fighting the very laws he bound himself to."
---
The Rule Maze
The entire plaza warped.
Lines of regulation formed a labyrinth around them—corridors of floating clauses, walls of binding terms, ceilings woven from sub-section spiders crawling across ancient directives.
Ne Job groaned.
"Oh great. Paper hell."
Yue corrected, "Sub-Article Containment Maze. Designed to trap noncompliant entities."
He blinked. "Should I be offended or flattered that I get to see this?"
"Both."
Xian appeared at the far end of the corridor, his silhouette multiplied by mirrored rulescript.
"Ne Job. You were never meant to exist as you are."
Ne Job shouted back, "Yeah well, I also wasn't meant to drink expired celestial coffee, and look how that turned out."
"You distort the system," Xian said, voice booming. "You destabilize balance. You corrupt the Mandala."
Yue stepped forward, unafraid.
"He restores balance. Your system collapsed because you erased dissent. You erased him."
A flicker ran through Xian's expression.
"You speak like the Echo of Balance."
Yue's jaw tightened—but she didn't answer.
Ne Job stared.
"Yue…?"
She shook her head slightly. "Later."
Right. Later.
If they survived.
---
The First Rule: Containment
The walls closed in.
Literally.
Regulation text squeezed from both sides like a crushing vice.
Ne Job and Yue sprinted forward as paper walls snapped closed behind them.
A clause latched onto Yue's sleeve—
She sliced it off with a glowing manual-edge.
More clauses swarmed like leeches.
Ne Job slapped them away, yelling:
"STOP ATTEMPTING TO FILE MY FACE!"
One clause stuck to his cheek anyway.
Yue ripped it off. "Stop yelling legal verbs!"
"IT'S MY COPING MECHANISM!"
They rounded a corner—
Straight into Xian's first form.
His Authority Projection rose before them: half-statute, half-shadow, wearing the old Director's robes.
It attacked without warning, launching a spear made of pure decree.
The Forgotten God intercepted it with his brush-staff, but the impact threw him into a wall of sub-articles, which clung to him like cobwebs trying to rewrite him.
"Go!" he roared. "My function is endurance!"
Yue pulled Ne Job forward.
---
The Second Rule: Isolation
A barrier slammed down, cutting them off from the others.
The corridor shifted again—this time stretching into an endless copy of the Bureau hallways from Ne Job's earliest memories.
Except something was wrong.
The desks were empty.
Forms shuffled themselves without clerks.
Footsteps echoed, but no one walked.
Ne Job swallowed.
"This isn't real."
Yue whispered, "This is the part of the Maze meant to isolate the intern until they break."
Xian materialized ahead of them—this time as a younger version of himself, wearing the badge of a senior clerk.
"Do you remember this place?" he asked quietly.
"The old Bureau. The one you served before your erasure."
Ne Job's breath caught.
Fragments of memory flickered.
Shadows. Orders. A desk. A voice—
Yue grabbed his hand tightly.
Xian's younger projection said, "You were meant to obey. You were meant to be shaped into Order."
Ne Job whispered, "I don't want to remember."
"You must," Xian said.
Ne Job closed his eyes—
And saw a pair of glowing eyes staring back from a polished badge.
Past Self.
The one who broke Heaven.
Yue squeezed his hand harder.
"You don't have to face that alone."
The corridor cracked.
Xian's projection dissolved.
The Maze collapsed into the final chamber—
A circular room of floating legal pillars.
At its center stood Xian himself, Mandala spinning broken halos around him.
---
The Rule That Was Never Written
Yue exhaled slowly.
"He's preparing the Executive Override. The last resort authority."
Ne Job blinked. "What does it do?"
"It rewrites the Bureau's foundation around the Director's intent. His intent."
Ne Job froze.
"So if he fires that—?"
"Everything reshapes to his version of perfect order."
"…Including us?"
"Yes."
Ne Job groaned. "Why does everything want to rewrite my personality today?!"
Xian lifted the fragmenting Mandala.
"Final notice, Ne Job. Return to your intended function. The Bureau cannot contain chaos."
Ne Job stepped forward.
"Then write a rule for it."
Xian paused.
"There is no such rule."
Ne Job smiled.
"Exactly."
Chaos Spark flared.
Yue's manual ignited.
A resonance formed between them—Order and Chaos, tethered through something older than rules.
Ne Job shouted:
"We're filing the first unwritten rule of the new Bureau—
No more erasing people for being different!"
The room shook.
The Mandala glitched.
The Echo of Balance stirred around Yue like a phantom memory.
And for the first time, Xian looked—
afraid.
Ne Job pointed at him.
"Xian, your mandate is outdated. Your Bureau is obsolete. And your rules?"
He grinned.
"They're about to get revised."
The chamber erupted in white and black light.
The final rule clash began.
End of Chapter 146 — "The Rule That Was Never Written."