Nobita's Time Heist

Fat Tiger complained, "Luckily there aren't any other time machines here, otherwise, at the rate you're driving, we'd definitely crash into one."

"Are you worried about Doraemon?" Shizuka gently comforted him. "We should always look on the bright side. At least we've got some information about it. Besides, there's no concrete evidence that the robot that appeared on the Santa Maria was him."

"...To be honest, I still don't think Doraemon has any motive for doing something like that," Suneo analyzed from the side. "What would he be after? A perfectly good childcare robot, even if it went back to the future, wouldn't suddenly change its personality and want to destroy the world, right?"

"Ultimately, regardless of whether Doraemon orchestrated all of this, such a massive plan couldn't have been accomplished by a single cat-shaped robot. He must have had accomplices behind him, most likely a large-scale organization." Dekisugi glanced at Nobita, and seeing that his emotions were relatively stable, continued, "To be honest... I have a feeling something's not quite right..."

"Assuming he succeeded and Columbus and his crew failed to discover the New World, could that really have prevented the birth of America?"

This was a profound question, and everyone fell into deep thought without uttering a sound.

The time machine sailed silently.

"As the need for civilization to expand outwards continues to increase, capital urgently needs new land, new markets, and new labor. Even if Columbus's voyage failed and he returned to the civilized world, spreading fear among people, at most fifty years later, his experience would become a harmless fairy tale. Humans are profit-driven animals, and when the demand evolves to a certain extent, a second and a third fleet will set sail. It can be said that the discovery of the New World was only a matter of time."

"To take it a step further, once human navigation technology makes a breakthrough and we have more advanced powered ships, the discovery of the New World will be inevitable. However, at that time, the indigenous people there will experience an even more inhumane extermination."

After a moment of thought, Da Xiong continued, "So, Xiao Shan means that this whole thing was just a smokescreen? That he deliberately left clues in 1492 to attract the attention of the Time Police?"

"..."

Dekisugi gave Nobita a deep look, then said nothing more.

However, if we follow this line of reasoning, the clue left by the time-traveling criminals happens to be a photo of a blue cat-shaped robot... It's quite intriguing to wonder who they really wanted to lure.

"No, this is just too outrageous. It's impossible, it can't be." — Dekisugi thought to himself, then shook his head, laughing at himself for having such a crazy idea.

"What exactly is this 'Doraemon' you guys keep talking about?" Asur asked curiously. "Is it the picture you showed me? I don't remember there being any tanuki-shaped robots in the 22nd century."

"He's not a tanuki, he's..." Nobita was about to explain when Doraemon's embarrassment and anger whenever he was mistaken for a tanuki robot, along with his round face that puffed up like a pufferfish, popped into his mind, and he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

In a daze, the sound and the memory have faded away, drifting away in the slightly melancholy time.

"...He was our partner, who went to the 22nd century for some reason. He was blue, round, 129.3 centimeters tall, walked silently, had a mouth that could open wide enough to fit a washbasin, and wore a bell around his neck. For some reason, he had no ears, and his whole body was round, like a roly-poly toy."

Without consciously trying to recall, Nobita naturally rattled off all of Doraemon's characteristics as if reciting a menu, then emphasized again, "He is my best friend."

"Your best friend?" Asur was completely baffled, his expression exaggerated as if he had heard something unbelievable. "A robot?"

"Any questions?"

“But aren’t a robot’s emotions all programmed? His friendship with you is just the result of the program. In fact, as long as the same parameters are set, any cat-shaped robot could be your friend. Similarly, it could go to any home to take care of children.” Asur couldn’t understand this at all and shrugged nonchalantly. “Treat an object as your best friend, it just feels a bit… right?”

"..."

"not like this."

Nobita refuted her calmly and resolutely, saying, "Robots and humans are the same. In my opinion, whether it's a heart beating in your chest or a nuclear reactor, there's no essential difference."

"When it comes to partners, as long as we recognize and respect each other, that's enough."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!—"

Suddenly, the warning buttons on the dashboard started flashing, and a piercing alarm abruptly interrupted the conversation. Nobita wasn't from the future, and his familiarity with the time machine was limited to simply "knowing how to drive it"; most of the time he relied on the built-in AI for navigation. As for the things on the dashboard, he couldn't understand most of them, only recognizing the brake and accelerator pedals.

At this moment, the only one here with real practical experience is Asur.

Her gaze swept across the dashboard, and her face instantly turned deathly pale. She pinched her cheek hard, until her fair cheek turned bright red, and tears even welled up in her eyes, before realizing that this wasn't a dream. The little bit of composure she had managed to regain vanished in an instant.

Turbulence struck, and the time machine began to stumble. The surrounding tunnels were stained with an ember-like gray, twisting and deforming.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's going on? The last adventure just ended, and it's starting again so soon?" Fat Tiger complained, gripping the time machine's navigation light with both hands. "At least let us go home and get some sleep!"

"Looks like the interference isn't over yet; we've encountered another spacetime turbulence." Nobita had never encountered this situation twice before. He gritted his teeth. "Everyone, hold on tight!"

“I thought it was strange before, you didn’t even get your license before you started driving this thing, right?” Asur gave a bitter laugh. “It’s no use… there’s no escaping it. See the numbers? Timeline dispersion value 50.23%… This isn’t just an ordinary ‘undercurrent,’ it’s a tsunami! A true spacetime tsunami!”

"If it were a warship from the Spacetime Management Institute, there might be some hope, but this kind of open-top... ha..."

They encountered a turbulent current that caused them to lose all their cargo and be thrown into the vast ocean where they were helpless and encountered a strange incident.

Just when they were finally rescued, on their way back, they encountered an even rarer time-space tsunami. Their misfortune was no less than being in a second car accident in an ambulance.

"Tsk..."

Nobita gritted his teeth and pushed the lever all the way down, then stepped on the gas. The time machine's backup power immediately lit up, and two dark blue, inverted cone-shaped flames shot out.

An endless expanse of gray slowly spread out before me, layer upon layer, like an endless vortex.

"Is he dead or alive...?"

"Let's bet on this!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"boom----!!"

The engine started, sounding like a wild horse neighing.

The time machine, carrying both childhood and the present, pierced through this vast vortex like a sharp arrow.

Chapter Twenty-One: After all, my marksmanship is not bad.

“Mululululul…”

It wasn't that they were intentionally making strange noises; it was just that the speed was so fast that the wind pressure was blasting their faces, almost tearing their skin off. In this unobstructed space, the time machine was moving at race car speed, and unfortunately, Doraemon had left behind a cheap, open-top version, which placed high demands on the passengers' physical fitness. However, fortunately, these people were experienced. During their trip to the Cretaceous period, due to overloading, the time machine briefly stalled, and they actually performed acrobatic stunts of tossing and catching people in the time tunnel, managing to catch everyone without missing a single one…

However, Asur, the only one who had never ridden in a convertible, was not so lucky.

"what--!"

The little girl screamed, slipped, and fell backward, instantly passing by the time machine. Just as she was about to plunge into the endless, chaotic tunnel, a strong hand reached out and, with a snap, gripped her wrist tightly.

With a "crack," Asur was in so much pain she almost cried out, but Fat Tiger kept increasing his pressure to make sure she wouldn't slip from his grasp.

"It's happening again... Am I just unlucky with this action?"

Most of his body was already outside the time machine, with only one hand gripping the navigation light. At the critical moment, he barely managed to grab Asur's wrist, turned around, and gritted his teeth, saying, "Hold on a little longer, I absolutely won't let go! If you happen to fall into some tropical island in the South China Sea and accidentally stumble upon a future people's base, we'll have to embark on another great adventure to rescue you... Right now, we still have to find Doraemon's whereabouts, we don't have time for that!"

"It's...Doraemon again..." Hearing that name once more, besides the pain, Asur felt only incomprehension. "That's just Nobita's family's robot, right? It shouldn't be like you guys..."

"Don't talk nonsense!" Shizuka and Suneo hugged Gian around the waist from behind to prevent him from falling, and said seriously, "Doraemon is a friend to all of us!"

"Everyone..."

Asur's pupils dilated. For a moment, she even forgot that she was in danger. The shock pierced her and left her in a daze.

"Nobita—!!"

No other language was needed; their emotionally charged shouts had already forged an absolute understanding. Nobita didn't turn around; he simply pulled out his lightweight fishing rod from his pocket, swung it sharply, and, with a sudden leap, caught the girl who had been tossed to him by Gian in mid-air. At the same time, Suneo and Shizuka immediately exerted their strength, forcefully pulling the burly man back.

"Phew...that scared me to death, I thought I was going to die there..."

He raised his hand and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, but Fat Tiger felt like something was wrong.

"Xiao Wu!" Shizuka was the first to react, covering her mouth in surprise as she exclaimed, "Your hand...your hand!"

Fat Tiger then noticed that his right hand, which he usually used to wipe his sweat, was now extremely thin and asymmetrical with his other arm. Its skin was darker, more wrinkled, and several age spots had appeared on the back of his hand, making it seem both unfamiliar and terrifying to him.

But the next second, his withered arm twitched, and like a double image, it returned to its original state.

“It’s time. Because spacetime is discontinuous, this happens occasionally. Because the physical body is exposed, time passes through it, causing the body to age rapidly.” Asur, hanging on the fishing rod, said weakly, “Thank you, but… could you please put me down first?”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Within the gray vortex, several emerald-green specks of light flickered, struggling to approach. Upon seeing these white, eye-shaped flying devices, Xiao Fu's face lit up with joy, and he was the first to shout, "Time Police! It's the Time Police's flying gadgets!"

"Hahaha!" Fat Tiger was overjoyed and blurted out the truth without thinking, "This time it's finally working!"

"Buzz...buzz buzz..." In the turbulence, the signal was inevitably interfered with, but when Flock's voice came from the other side, it still gave everyone a certain sense of reassurance.

"Nobita, I can't receive your signal, so don't waste your time answering! The situation is urgent; you've encountered a super turbulence caused by multiple simultaneous eruptions. In every era, in unknown locations, we've set up emergency refuge points for time travel. I will guide you to the nearest point; there are supplies and water there. Remember, wait until..."

"boom----!!"

A laser beam struck from behind, precisely piercing the aircraft, and the scattered debris also pierced through the rest of the support system.

From being rescued to the sudden turn of events, it only took a few dozen seconds, but everyone experienced the entire process from heaven to hell.

"Someone is sniping at us!" Da Xiong reacted immediately. With his sharpshooter instincts, he quickly turned his head and looked in the direction of the bullet from the previous shot.

At the edge of his vision, at almost the limit of what the naked eye could perceive, he saw a black dot.

And a fleeting glimpse of light.

"Get down—!!"

Before he could explain, he grabbed Shizuka's head, then pulled Dekisugi around the waist, shoving them both down—in that split second, he judged the enemy's firing trajectory with unparalleled precision. Another laser beam pierced through the spot where the two had just stood, striking the control panel directly.

"boom--!"

The dashboard was shot open, immediately emitting a plume of smoke, and various alarms went off incessantly. Of course, at this point, any further warnings would be meaningless.

"Bang!"

The disadvantages of not having a seatbelt are glaringly obvious.

During a sudden jolt, Nobita's body was thrown into the air, and he couldn't stop in time, falling off the side of the time machine.

"Nobita—!!"

With a scream, Shizuka hurriedly reached out her hand, but in the ashes, it was just an inch too short to reach him, and she watched him fall into the gray abyss.

The only thing that crossed their minds in that instant was their gaze.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On another time machine.

A black-clad man wearing a classic Mexican sombrero smirked coldly as he holstered his gun, pulled a detector from his pocket, and pointed it in the direction Nobita had fallen. After a brief calculation, numbers appeared on the detector.

On his chest was a dark red dinosaur icon.

"1899...the western part of the former United States of America?"

"Look what you've done, Norman," a warrior in indigo plate armor and a black and gold crescent helmet mocked from behind him. "You've just sent the enemy to the next target. It's hard not to suspect you're a mole."

"Stop babbling like a gay guy, you metalhead." Norman licked his lips, a hint of excitement in his smile. "You can't be wrong... it's him."

He turned his head, nodded slightly to the shadow hidden under the black robe, and said in a deep voice, "Sir, that boy and I have a slight grudge. My career was ruined because of him and that damned plesiosaur! For this mission, could you recall those two special envoys and let me carry it out myself? I assure you, I will offer you both revenge and victory!"

"..."

The person in the shadows remained silent, their eyes calm and still, staring straight at him.

"It just so happens that he's fallen into the late American West era, to be fair..."

He touched the holster on his belt and revealed an extremely confident smile.

"My marksmanship is not bad."

Chapter Twenty-Two: 1899, an era intertwined with you

"..."

In his hazy vision, a pure white expanse stung his eyes. He only regained consciousness a few seconds later when a biting wind sent shivers down his spine, jolting him awake. Da Xiong found himself lying flat on the back of a horse alongside Asur. Asur was covered by a thick yak hide, the bloodstains on it already dried, and it didn't look freshly peeled.

Da Xiong felt a wave of fear – if it weren't for the body heat from the horse's back and the insulation from the yak hide, he probably would have frozen to death without even realizing it.

Touching my stomach, I found the four-dimensional pocket was still there, and I felt much more at ease, having the energy to observe my surroundings.

The snow was still falling, the mountain path was muddy from the hooves of horses, and the air was bitterly cold. Taking a breath made my throat hurt uncontrollably.

"Is it on a snow-capped mountain...?"

Further ahead, there was another white horse. Though not large, it was flawless, its coat as white as snow. A burly man in a blue coat and a cowboy hat rode on it. His proportions were so imposing that the horse appeared rather small in comparison. He rode ahead, while the colorful horses carrying Da Xiong and his companions followed silently, embodying the ultimate in loyalty.

"Asur, Asur?"

She was gently pushed twice, but the girl didn't react at all. Her small shoulders trembled slightly, and her lips turned bluish-purple.

When I touched her hand again, it was almost as cold as a corpse.

"Oh no... Xiaoshan explained before that in this situation, all the body's heat is being used to supply the internal organs..."

Gritting his teeth, Nobita forced himself to muster some strength and pulled out the "Anti-Fever Cream" from his pocket. (Anti-Fever Cream: When applied to the body, it can change the body's surface temperature, thus adapting to hot or cold environments. However, if too much is applied or the application is uneven, it may cause burns or frostbite, so extra caution is required.) He dabbed a little with his finger and applied it to her face.

"You're awake. Did you sleep well?" His voice was loud and deep, which was reassuring. Da Xiong was stunned for a moment, then realized that the effect of the translation konjac tablet hadn't worn off yet, and he could still understand what he was saying. "You are orphans captured by the Odrisco gang, right? You are lucky to have survived."

"I...we..."

When he opened his mouth, Da Xiong realized that his voice was hoarse and raspy, and he almost didn't recognize himself.

“That’s normal. I found you in a thicket. The snow had almost buried the little girl… I don’t know why, but you were the only one who was clean. It’s like the snowflakes were deliberately avoiding you, hahaha!”

"Thank you for saving us." Nobita applied some face cream to his face, which finally eased the bone-chilling cold a little. "Where is this..."