1. The Spirit's Mask
The Evil Manual Spirit didn't walk—
it unfolded.
Pages peeled from the wall like papyrus wings, weaving into a figure with too many limbs and an aura of instructional dread.
It stepped forward and the overhead torches dimmed in fear.
> Intern Ne Job.
Your resistance is inefficient.
Accept your path.
Ne Job swallowed.
"Why does everyone down here sound like a tax notice?"
The Manual Spirit tilted its head—no face, just paper forming the suggestion of one.
> Chaos interns rely on instinct.
Order interns obey.
You are neither.
An obsolete hybrid.
"So I'm… fired?"
> You were never hired.
Yue elbowed him.
"Don't engage with it. Manual Spirits feed on confusion."
"They feed on confusion?"
Yue nodded.
"When someone reads instructions they don't understand, the Spirit gets stronger."
Ne Job stared at the Spirit.
"…So like Ikea?"
A ripple of power surged through the chamber.
Pages quivered.
> Clarify.
"I'm saying your whole brand is unclear assembly."
The torches hissed violently.
Yue facepalmed.
"You're literally powering it."
---
2. The Bargain
Metal seals on the Summit Office door tightened, as if the Bureau itself braced.
The Evil Manual Spirit raised a finger.
A single page floated between them.
Not a contract.
A job posting.
> ASSISTANT PROCTOR OF DIVINE STANDARDIZATION
Responsibilities: review mortal rituals, assess deific performance, input compliance metrics, manage sentimental overflow.
Ne Job stared at it.
"Wait. You're… offering me a promotion?"
> An opportunity.
The Princess rises.
She requires employees, not friends.
Yue tensed.
"This is manipulation."
"No," Ne Job muttered.
"This is corporate poison."
The Manual Spirit continued:
> Rise with her.
Become her first functionary.
Help her sterilize failure.
Become the solution she cannot be.
Ne Job blinked.
"Sterilize… failure? You know I am failure, right?"
> Precisely.
A failure weaponized becomes the ultimate tool of order.
Yue whispered, horrified: "They want you to betray the Princess by supporting her conversion."
"Oh," Ne Job said.
"So just like upper management."
---
3. The Masked Truth
The Manual Spirit shifted its pages.
> You misunderstand the Princess's goal.
She will not be chained.
She will rule.
Images flashed across the chamber— not illusions, but Bureau projections:
Princess Ling sitting in a throne of ledgers, hair bound in red cords, eyes cold. Whole departments kneeling. Souls assigned, stamped, optimized.
Ne Job staggered back.
"That's not Ling."
> That is Ling unburdened.
All the empathy burned out.
All inefficiency erased.
The Spirit spread its paper limbs.
> She seeks justice.
Justice demands systems.
Systems demand cost.
Yue's voice was trembling.
"She would crush the mortals she hates to protect."
> Incorrect.
They would crush themselves,
and blame her.
Ne Job slowly shook his head.
"No. Ling cries when a sparrow falls. She gets mad when gods sneeze at people. She—"
He couldn't finish.
The Spirit leaned closer.
> That was Princess Ling.
She is becoming Director Ling.
The Princess is breaking.
The Director will not.
---
4. The Spirit's Argument
It did not shout.
It did not threaten.
It presented facts like knives.
> As a princess, she failed.
As a rebel, she lost.
As a consort of mortals, she was betrayed.
As a child of gods, she was abandoned.
Each word hit Ne Job like a hammer.
> There is only one place in this world where no one can defy her—
the Bureau.
Its laws will be hers.
Its cruelty will be hers to direct.
Yue tried to speak— the Spirit silenced her with a page:
> Assistant Yue Lin.
Your file lists 1,128 disciplinary strikes.
38 are justified.
You are not a witness here.
You are a warning.
Yue froze as her body was wrapped in black ribbons of red tape.
She hissed, face white with rage.
"Don't… listen… to it."
---
5. The Intern's Rebellion
Ne Job did something none of the Bureau's spirits expected.
He laughed.
Not hysterically. Not bitterly. Just… tired.
"Director Ling, huh?"
The Spirit paused.
Ne Job looked up, eyes blazing.
"You're describing someone I know."
He stepped forward.
"And someone I don't."
The Spirit withdrew slightly.
"The someone I know… she helps me up when I trip on stairs. She insults me because she's scared I'll get hurt. She threatens gods because she hates bullies."
He jabbed a thumb at the door.
"That girl doesn't want a throne. She wants the world to stop eating itself alive."
Yue managed a smile through the tape.
The Manual Spirit's pages fluttered.
> Sentimentality is inefficient.
"Maybe," Ne Job said.
"But you know what's worse?"
He raised the paperclip coil.
"Authority without people."
---
6. Round One: Intern vs. Instruction
The Spirit moved faster than a thought.
Its pages exploded into blades—thousands of shredding edges.
Wind howled.
Ne Job braced.
He didn't block.
He bent.
Like wire.
Like the Paperclip God told him.
The blades sliced—
—and curved away.
Not because of skill.
Because he was too chaotic for the attack to predict.
The Manual Spirit trembled.
> UNEXPECTED BEHAVIOR.
"You're a rulebook," Ne Job said, panting.
"I'm a toddler with scissors."
He charged.
Pages cracked like glass.
---
7. Yue's Countermeasure
Tape tightened around Yue, constricting her chest—
She exhaled sharply, powered her divine core, and weaponized bureaucracy.
Her clipboard glowed, stamped with celestial protocol.
She shouted like a lawyer possessed:
> CLAUSE 17-C:
ANY MANUAL THAT INTERFERES WITH INTERN LIFESPAN SHALL BE SUBJECT TO RETRAINING.
The entire corridor shook.
The Manual Spirit screamed—as much as paper could scream.
Red tape disintegrated around Yue.
She tore free, cracked her knuckles, and joined Ne Job at his side.
"Team policy," she grinned.
"Punch first, administrate later."
---
8. A New Force Answers
The Manual Spirit's body reassembled, trembling.
> If you will not join her…
you will be erased for her sake.
A glyph appeared over its head—
the seal of the Upper Floors.
Something higher had noticed.
A cold, divine hum echoed.
Yue paled.
"Oh no."
Ne Job blinked.
"What?"
"The Bureau… granted it upgrade authorization."
"…like a promotion?"
"No," she whispered.
"It's becoming a Supervisor."
Pages ignited.
Ink became molten.
Words warped into metal sigils.
The Manual Spirit expanded into a towering, four-armed juggernaut:
SUPERVISOR MANUAL SPIRIT —
REVISION: OMEGA
> YOUR RESISTANCE HAS BEEN DOCUMENTED.
TIME TO CORRECT YOU.
Ne Job stared up at the monster.
His gut screamed run.
His heart whispered:
Ling is waiting.
He raised the paperclip coil like a sword he didn't know how to use.
"Okay," he muttered.
"You want to revise me?"
He charged—
"Try it."