Returning to Basil Street. A totaled electric-yellow Verrari Convertible—the last evidence that a terrible car accident had occurred shortly ago—was being loaded onto a tow truck. The operator of the tow truck was hooking the last cable to the car’s mangled grill when he let out a yelp.

A grey mouse had just scurried out of the Verrari’s radio and leapt through the smashed-open windshield. Its paws scrabbled over the truck operator’s hand, eliciting another yelp. Looking up with red eyes, it let out an aggressive squeak.

“Disgusting!” the truck operator bellowed, flicking the mouse off the side of the car with his index finger. 

The mouse tumbled through the air. It did a sissonne and, like an experienced ballet dancer, struck a perfect fifth position pose on the concrete street, its little paws raised to the sky. 

The truck operator: “…”

Before the truck operator could question his eyesight, the strange mouse wiggled its tail and took off dancing in the direction of a telephone pole. 

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To be clear, this was no random telephone pole on Basil Street. This was the very one Mikhail had died boneheadedly driving his Verarri into. In the shadow of said telephone pole, the invisible Gabriel “CXXXIV” Song was still lying unmoving, his feathered wings splayed out like a snow angel. 

Indeed, in Gabriel’s own words, death was inescapable.

Thankfully, as a guardian angel—or, ex-guardian angel, rather—he had already died one time already, long, long ago. As for dying a second time, it would take more than a bad concussion to cause something so extreme to happen.

The mouse that had leapt out of Mikhail’s car’s radio fearlessly scrambled onto the unconscious ex-angel’s chest. After doing a pas de chat across his sleeping face, it gave the crown of his wheat-blonde head a series of sniffs, searching for something.

These tickling little paws and whiskers finally caused Gabriel to stir awake. 

As the mouse jumped to safety and hid in a bush, Gabriel floated into an upright position, landing gently on his toes. 

The last thing he remembered before blacking out was slipping on a patch of ice. Feeling a stabbing pain behind his eyes, he reached out to cradle his forehead, only to catch sight of his transparent hand. He blinked in surprise. 

“System?” he called. 

No reply.

Gabriel unsteadily floated over to Mikhail’s totaled electric-yellow Verrari, still being loaded into a tow truck. He checked his reflection in the barely-intact side mirror. What he saw made his jaw drop.

His halo was gone!

No doubt that unscrupulous brat Mikhail Li had filched it and run off!

If memory serves me right, Gabriel considered, Little Mikhail’s Karma Points can be counted on one hand. It’s unlikely he’ll get far. He massaged his temples, still feeling the unpleasant effects from his concussion. Seconds later, he spread his wings and took off into the sky.

He entirely missed when, in his wake, the tiny mouse ventured back out of the bush it had been hiding in. Its red, beady eyes were fixed on him, following. 

Impossibly for a normal, earthly mouse, its mouth curved into an evil smile. 

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Elsewhere in P— City, Gabriel’s old System was having some trouble adjusting to its new Host. 

The astute reader may draw some real-life comparisons, but the Guardian Angel System was not artificial intelligence. It was, in fact, a living, breathing celestial organism. 

Although, like all Systems, it had been encouraged from birth not to experience emotions, it distinctly missed its old Host, who was always polite and said “please” and “thank you” whenever storing items in its inventory. Not only was this never the case with its new Host—it had been mistaken for a weird sex-toy!

Unfortunately, its level-1 programming would not allow it to clarify the situation. All it could manage to say over and over again in a loop was: 【YOUR EXPERIENCE IS IMPORTANT TO US - TO FILL OUT A ONE-MINUTE SURVEY, PLEASE STAY ON THE LINE—】

“Shaddup!!!”

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As for the System’s new Host, having walked all the way to downtown P— City, he had just rediscovered the mysterious piece of paper in his pocket. 

Mikhail stared at the paper the creepy Santa had given him. At the top of the page, the word “BINGO” was written in bold font. The sheet consisted of five rows and five columns, leaving a total of 25 squares. The central square had a pink background and the word “FREE” on it. 

In red font at the top right-hand corner were the words: “1 win = return to the world (alive)!!”

The thing looked extremely shoddy, with uneven lines and poor typesetting. More than likely, the person who had made it had downloaded a free art program and only messed around with the settings for a few minutes before printing it out. 

Mikhail asked the System, “Is this thing for real?”

【SYSTEM SCANNING FOR VIRUSES - NO VIRUS DETECTED - WOULD YOU LIKE TO DOWNLOAD THIRD-PARTY PLUGIN (Christmas Miracle 2.0.1) FROM UNKNOWN SOURCE?】

“No need, no need.” Mikhail walked over to a trash can and threw the bingo sheet away. Absently, he asked, “By the way, about that ‘25-day free trial.’ What happens after the trial period is over?”

【THE PAID VERSION OF THE GUARDIAN ANGEL SYSTEM COSTS KARMA POINTS, ACCRUED DURING HOST’S PREVIOUS LIFETIME - IN THE EVENT THAT KARMA POINTS ARE INSUFFICIENT AND THE TRIAL ENDS, HOST (uh, Mikhail Li) WILL BE DELETED FROM THE ENVIRONMENT】  

“Um, ‘deleted?’ Okay… How many Karma Points do I have?”

【HOST’S CURRENT KP BALANCE IS: 6】

“And how many do I need to buy the full Guardian Angel System?”

【6—】

“Fantastic. Purchase it right away.” 

【—HUNDRED - HOST NEEDS 600KP FOR FULL PURCHASE】

Mikhail: “…”

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According to the System’s default explanation, if a person lived a benevolent life, improving the wellbeing of the people around them, they accrued Karma Points—also known as “KP”—in an invisible bank. Deceased persons, whether they went “up” or “down,” only rarely came across opportunities to gain a System, but if they managed it, KP was always necessary to purchase upgrades and items in the Universal Store. 

Unfortunately, since Mikhail no longer numbered among the living, when it came to getting more KP, he was totally screwed. 

The words “1 win = return to the world (alive)” jangled around in Mikhail’s head. He traced his steps back to the trash can and begrudgingly dug out the bingo sheet. Thankfully it had been laminated. He only had to wipe the paper off onto a nearby patch of grass to smear away the coffee that had splashed over it. 

A little chime emanated in Mikhail’s head. It sounded like a truncated rip-off of the “item acquired” jingle from the Legend of Welda games. The System said: 

【PLUGIN (Christmas Miracle 2.0.1) FROM UNKNOWN THIRD-PARTY SOURCE INSTALLED SUCCESSFULLY - TO BEGIN TUTORIAL, PRESS 7】

“Hold up. First, what’s the identity of the Christmas creep who gave me this thing?” Mikhail asked the System.

【SEARCHING… SEARCHING… INFORMATION RETRIEVAL FAILED】

“Motherfucker, of course! Fine! Start the tutorial!”

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Watching Mikhail pace the plaza in a circle, pressing invisible buttons and talking to himself aloud, a few pigeons cooed awkwardly. 

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The tutorial video was downloaded directly into his brain. It was straightforward. One had to get five squares checked off in a row in order to win. The game, coincidentally enough, lasted the same amount of time as Mikhail’s free trial of the Guardian Angel System—25 days—meaning, if he was unable to secure a “bingo” by the end of Christmas Day, he would be summarily and heartlessly deleted from the environment. 

However, scanning the bingo sheet, the contents didn’t look all that difficult. Since he was thirsty, Mikhail decided to check one of the boxes off experimentally. He ducked into the nearest Starbjörks. Pleased to find that his debit card still worked, he ordered himself a small hot cocoa. 

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After the first sip, the bingo sheet didn’t change. 

After the second sip, the bingo sheet didn’t change.

Mikhail went ahead and chugged the entire drink. Even when there were only chocolatey dregs left at the bottom of the cup, the bingo sheet still didn’t show any signs of changing. 

“What gives?!” Mikhail shouted, causing a few widened eyes to dart towards him. 

【THE RULES OF PLUGIN EVENT (Christmas Miracle 2.0.1) INDICATE THAT COMPLETION OF EVENT MILESTONES MUST INVOLVE DUAL PARTICIPATION OF HOST (uh, Mikhail Li) AND PAIRED HUMAN (Shen Dan)】

The hairs on Mikhail’s body all stood on end. That name “Shen Dan” hadn’t been spoken by the System’s robotic voice, but rather by Shen Dan himself. Probably the audio clip had been lifted directly from the man’s voicemail. It seemed to contain a cocky smile. 

Cocky smile? What the hell am I thinking? There’s no telling what he looks like—

In fact, all Systems had an ability to read the minds of their Hosts. In an attempt to be helpful, the System quickly pulled up an image search for “Shen Dan (actor)” and dumped the results into Mikhail’s vision. Hence, a wall of high-res photos of Shen Dan, some fully clothed, some less so, filled up Mikhail’s line of sight without warning. 

Sharp jaw, straight nose, watercolor lips, long lashes, brooding eyes. Flawless skin; sculpted, well-toned muscles. Here splayed out coquettishly on a bed of flowers, there in a tie and suit at a table with tented fingers, expression dangerous— 

Mikhail crumpled the paper cup in his hand, blood pressure skyrocketing. 

God fucking damn it! He’s hot!!!