Chapter 29: The Tourist Trap of Legend
The Author had warned that becoming a "Legend" would attract attention, but Ne Job hadn't expected it to manifest as a 100% influx of people wearing Hawaiian shirts and carrying glowing, hovering cameras.
The Bureau of Cosmic Alignment was no longer a secret administrative hub; it was a "Must-See Destination on the Meta-Narrative Trail."
"Excuse me, Mr. Archivist?" A man in neon-green shorts tapped Ne Job on the shoulder with a selfie stick. He was from a Summer Blockbuster genre, smelling faintly of popcorn and explosions. "Could you stand next to the Great Mainspring and look... you know... brooding? My followers in the Action-Thriller sector love a grumpy bureaucrat."
Ne Job stared at the man, his silver stapler twitching in his hand. "I am not an attraction. I am a High Commissioner. And you are currently standing on a 7.5% unstable reality-seam. If you don't move, you might be converted into a footnote."
The Genre-Hopper Invasion
The Grand High Office was crawling with them. There were "Hardboiled Detectives" taking moody photos of the coffee machine, "Magical School Students" trying to feed the paper dragons, and at least one "Space Marine" who was trying to recalibrate the pneumatic tubes to fire plasma grenades.
"Commissioner!" Assistant Yue cried, her holographic form flickering as she tried to dodge a group of "Rom-Com Protagonists" who were looking for a 'Meet-Cute' near the filing cabinets. "The structural load of the Bureau is reaching critical mass! We weren't built for this many subplots!"
The Architect, Ao Bing, was currently barricaded in his office, as a group of "High Fantasy Dwarves" were critiquing the load-bearing capacity of the Origami Bridge. "They want to add gargoyles, Ne Job! Gargoyles that breathe actual fire! It'll ruin the aerodynamics!"
The Economy of Fame
The only one enjoying the chaos was The Muse. She had set up a small stand near the elevators and was selling "Authentic 7.5% Sparkle Samples" in tiny glass jars for the price of one "Interesting Character Quirk" per jar.
"Look, Ne Job!" she chirped, holding up a jar that glowed with a brooding, dark energy. "I traded a jar of pink glitter for this 'Tragic Secret' from a YA Protagonist! We can use it to power the furnace during the winter cycles!"
"Muse, we are a Bureau, not a gift shop!" Ne Job snapped, though he winced as a "Western Outlaw" began a duel with a vending machine in the hallway. "If we don't get these Genre-Hoppers out of here, the 'Infinite Addendum' will become a 'Public Theme Park.' The Great Eraser won't even need to delete us; we'll just be buried under tourist reviews!"
The 7.5% Tourist Trap
Ne Job realized that you couldn't simply evict tourists. They thrived on conflict and scenery. If he fought them, it would just be another "Action Sequence" for their cameras. He had to make the Bureau... well, a Bureau again.
"Assistant Yue! Princess Ling!" Ne Job commanded. "Initiate Protocol: The Boredom Barrier!"
Suddenly, the lighting in the Bureau shifted. The dramatic, legendary glow was replaced by the harsh, flickering hum of fluorescent lights. The mahogany desks turned back into laminated chipboard. The "Legendary" signage was replaced by posters detailing "The Proper Procedure for Requesting a Form to Request a Meeting."
The Muse, catching on, swapped her jars of sparkle for stacks of "Standardized Liability Waivers."
"In order to take a photo of the Mainspring," Ne Job announced through the intercom, his voice a drone of pure, unadulterated administrative apathy, "you must first complete Form 12-B, Section C, and have it notarized by a Sentient Footnote in the Sub-Basement. There is a waiting period of six to eight business eons."
The Great Exodus
The effect was instantaneous. The Action-Thriller guy looked at the thirty-page waiver and paled. "Wait... there's no explosion? No dramatic monologue?"
"Only a thirty-minute safety briefing on the proper use of paper clips," Ne Job replied, handing him a dull, gray pamphlet.
The Space Marine lowered his plasma rifle. "This place is... it's just an office."
"100%," Ne Job confirmed. "With 7.5% more paperwork than your average starship."
One by one, the Genre-Hoppers began to leave. The "Noir" detectives found the fluorescent lighting too unflattering for their cheekbones. The "Magical Students" found the filing cabinets lacked a sense of wonder. Within an hour, the only thing left in the Grand High Office was a single, discarded Hawaiian shirt and the smell of stale popcorn.
The Legend of the Ordinary
Ne Job sat at his desk, the silence finally returning. He pulled out his ledger.
LOG: CHAPTER 29 SUMMARY.
STATUS: Tourist invasion repelled via Bureaucracy.
NOTE: The 'Legend' status is now a well-kept secret. I've put a sign on the door that says 'Accountants at Work: Enter at your own risk of falling asleep.'
OBSERVATION: People want to visit a legend, but nobody wants to live in a spreadsheet.
P.S.: The Muse kept the 'Tragic Secret' in a jar. We're using it to keep the coffee hot.
The Architect emerged from his office, looking relieved. "Are they gone? Did they take the gargoyles with them?"
"They're gone, Ao Bing," Ne Job said, adjusting his hat. "The Bureau is just an office again."
"A legendary office," The Muse corrected, winking as she tucked a stray bit of neon-orange confetti into her pocket.
Ne Job smiled. They were a first draft, a legend, and a disaster all at once. And for the first time in eons, the inbox was empty.