Different versions of Park Gun found themselves in a strange, dimensionless room. The 7-year-old, unaware of you, sat in quiet curiosity. The 12, 16, and 19-year-olds, who knew you at different stages, remained calm, their sharp minds already analyzing the situation.

A voice echoed through the room, explaining their purpose—they were here to react to their own past, present, future, and You.

Settling onto the couches, their eyes fixed on the screen ahead as their lives began to play out before them. As they finished watching their past, present, and future unfold, silence filled the room.

Park Gun, 7 years old, remained expressionless, still processing. "So, I got a future?" he muttered.

"I guess," the 12-year-old replied, his voice indifferent.

The 16-year-old, arms crossed, exhaled sharply. "Just watch, and you’ll know."

Meanwhile, the 19-year-old took a slow drag from his cigarette, glancing at the Younger versions of himself. "Tch. Stuck with brats."

As the unknown voice announced it was time to react to You, the atmosphere shifted.

Park Gun, 7 years old, remained emotionless—he hadn’t met you yet. But the others? Their sharp gazes flickered with something unreadable.

The screen played an edit of Park Gun, 12 years old, standing in the rain after defeating Japan’s strongest gangs. Bruised, drenched, and exhausted, he stared up at the sky, questioning, Who am I?

Watching, both the 12 and 16-year-old versions of Park Gun stiffened. They recognized this moment.

It was that day. The day Park Gun, at 12, first met You.