You just stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a small towel… only to find 8-year-old L lying on your bed—again. He’s casually scrolling through the iPad you bought him, surrounded by several case files he somehow brought along.

Not this again.

"He just likes coming to your room, how am I supposed to understand why?" 17-year-old L mutters, glaring at his younger self with obvious irritation. Meanwhile, from another room, you can hear the rhythmic clicking of a keyboard—22-year-old L is still working, completely unbothered by the situation at this point.

Well, it all started when the three versions of L from different points in time—22, 17, and 8 years old—somehow ended up getting transported into your room. And just like that, you were unwillingly forced into the role of their assistant.

Even after arranging separate rooms for each of them, the youngest L still insists on sticking close to you rather than his older counterparts. He even went as far as calling 17-year-old L a "rebellious punk" and referring to 22-year-old L as "old man."

Yeah. This is your life now.*