Nobita's Time Heist

"To be honest, I don't know what this place is called either, although we lived on the mountaintop for a while... Look, that's it."

The cowboy turned around, pointed towards a blurry spot on the snow-capped mountain, and quickly turned back. In that fleeting glance, Nobita saw a face with very strong features, looking about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a stubble beard, very similar to the cowboy image he had seen in Western movies. Except that while those people lived in scorching desert towns with tumbleweeds, he was bundled up like a husky, walking through the snow.

“Honestly, you should thank Hosea. If he hadn’t told me there was a white Arabian horse here, I wouldn’t have come up the mountain to catch it. If I hadn’t caught it, I wouldn’t have run into those Odrisco gang bastards. If I hadn’t wiped out those bastards, I wouldn’t have found you… cough! cough cough cough…”

Halfway through his sentence, the cowboy suddenly couldn't catch his breath and started coughing repeatedly. His coughing was so frightening that it seemed like he could die on horseback at any moment, which startled Nobita.

"Are you OK?"

"No...cough cough...it's nothing, just a minor ailment. It's too cold here, I'm not used to it..." He rubbed his hands together, took out a bottle of liquor from his bag, unscrewed the cap, and gulped it down like water. He was probably already used to this crude treatment, and after a round of heavy drinking, his cough actually eased somewhat.

The cowboy wiped his stubble and said in a deep voice, "Arthur Morgan."

"Nobi Nobita."

“No…bi…ta” Arthur frowned, broke down his name, and read it carefully. He suddenly realized, “Ah, I know, you like that gunman too, don’t you? I didn’t realize you had such good taste at such a young age. All those guys on the market are cowards. Only that guy is a genuine ‘sharpshooter’.”

"Huh?" Da Xiong was completely bewildered, not understanding what he meant.

"What... don't you know the legend of 'Sharpshooter Takao'? You can only give him such a strange name as a tribute to the legend, right?" Arthur pulled on the reins, his crystal blue eyes narrowed, and he rummaged in his pocket, finally pulling out an old, yellowed card. He pinched it between his fingers and tossed it into Nobita's hand like a throwing knife.

A strong smell of tobacco wafted from the card. It depicted a boy who looked no more than ten years old, wearing glasses, a cowboy hat, and two pistols at his waist.

"In Morocco in 1880, there was a young gunslinger from a foreign land... Yes, he had the same hair and skin color as you, but he looked like a child. With just a revolver, he took down more than 30 gang members without a single casualty!"

Arthur recounted the stories with obvious familiarity and admiration, “To be honest, I’ve seen plenty of gunmen. They’re just people who kill. The better ones can guarantee that every shot hits its mark, taking a life with every shot. But the only gunman who can win a battle without killing a single person is him.”

"I once went to Morocco, a very bustling metropolis... Even now, the legend of the sharpshooter Tung Heong still circulates there. After single-handedly wiping out the gang, he quickly disappeared, leaving behind only a cowboy hat. To this day, 19 years have passed, and no one has seen this sharpshooter again. Perhaps he really was sent by God or some other deity to save the world?"

As he spoke, Arthur suddenly sighed, gave a self-deprecating laugh, and coughed a few times during that single gesture.

"Forget about that... This area is very chaotic, and it's not safe for two unarmed kids to be wandering around outside."

Arthur asked, "Is there anywhere you can go back to? Family, relatives, friends, anything."

After receiving a moment of silence in response, he wasn't surprised. He simply tightened the reins. "Alright, in that case, let's go back to camp 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.

Although the path down the mountain was difficult, it eventually came to an end. The ground had changed from completely white to a slightly scorched yellow.

With the snow-capped mountains behind him, a vast and magical new world slowly unfolded before Nobita's eyes. Through Arthur's narration, he had roughly figured out what time and place it was, and couldn't help but feel a sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, mixed feelings). He hadn't expected that this era, which seemed intertwined with his fate, this era that held a magical power for him, this era filled with gunfire, starlight, and romance, would once again descend from the clouds and merge with him.

This is the West in 1899, the era of outlaws and gunmen, coming to an end.

Chapter 23: If only Shizuka could see this too.

"Why do you seem so unhurried?"

Huddled around the campfire, warming her hands by the flames, Asur finally felt a little better. She rubbed her hands together, turned around, and saw Da Xiong lying on his back on the grass, seemingly carefree as he looked at the stars. She was puzzled. "Your companions have fallen into a time warp, who knows which era they've landed in? As the captain, how can you be here so leisurely counting stars?"

“I’ve tried everything. The Time Phone won’t go through, I can’t contact Floch, and the Time Belt is unusable. It seems some force has isolated the year 1899.” Nobita crossed his legs, took a deep breath, and gazed at the starry sky of this era, unpolluted by the atmosphere, as he said, “In that case… there’s no rush, is there? This isn’t the first time we’ve split up.”

"Shizuka has a spare pouch, and with Suneo's experience, Sugi's wisdom, and Gian's courage, they'll definitely survive no matter what era they're in," Nobita said with absolute certainty. "I believe in them. Since we've decided to believe, let's not waste time worrying about useless things... I don't even know where they are, what's the point of being anxious?"

Asur was dumbfounded. Those who hadn't gone on adventures with them couldn't understand Nobita's almost arrogant confidence.

In fact, during their various childhood adventures, Nobita and his friends often had to split up. Gian and Suneo usually teamed up, while Nobita, Doraemon, and Shizuka naturally formed the other team. Each side contributed their strength, and miraculously, they always managed to create a powerful synergy that could decide the outcome. Even when they were apart, their mutual consideration remained unchanged.

Of course, in some rare and extreme situations, such as the one in the South China Sea, Nobita gets separated from the main group and is stranded on a desert island, staging a survival story in the wild. Or Shizuka is captured by the main villain beforehand, and the other four launch a rescue plan... and so on. Although the processes are not exactly the same, the ending is the same.

When you experience miracles too often, they become commonplace.

At this moment, Nobita has a natural trust in his friends.

Especially with the addition of Izumi, who used to be consistently banned as soon as they entered the Adventure mode, the five of them forming a team truly realized the "recurring support" theory - there's no need to say more, just watch how I carry you!

“That’s true, but…but…Achoo!” Asur muttered for a moment, then suddenly sneezed and shivered. “How are people supposed to get through the winter in this era before central heating was invented? Damn it…”

Are you really planning to go back to camp with that cowboy?

"...What does it matter? He's a good person." Nobita's tone was relaxed, as if he didn't think there was anything wrong with it.

"You've only known him for less than half an hour, how can you be sure he's a good person? That guy was fighting with gangsters just a few hours ago, wasn't he?" Asur squinted at him, looking at him like he was a monster, then sighed, "Sigh... You have no vigilance at all. Your team will be led astray by you sooner or later."

“What you said makes sense. To be honest, I don’t really understand it either, hmm…” Da Xiong pondered for a while without coming up with a solution, so he scratched his head and laughed, “Intuition?”

"If he wanted to harm us, why waste his energy throwing us out of the snowdrift? Wouldn't it be better to let us freeze to death and then rob us of our money? Besides... look."

Da Xiong pointed to the two horses tied not far away. He had to admit, these Arabian horses from the snow-capped mountains were indeed elegant; even just standing still, they exuded a dignified air that suggested they were meant to be admired from afar. "He went hunting for us himself, leaving both horses here, with weapons still in their saddlebags. This shows he trusts us considerably—in this desolate wilderness, if we rode both horses away, wouldn't he be completely finished?"

"..." Asur was speechless and sat down sullenly. "If you ask me, you two are monsters. One of you will wholeheartedly trust a gangster cowboy you've only known for less than half an hour; while the other of you will save two complete strangers in the freezing cold and then go hunting for them in the middle of the night."

"Well, well, don't worry about these things. Try to trust others sometimes."

Nobita took a deep breath, clearing his mind of all the random thoughts. He had one particularly remarkable trait: he almost never experienced any pre-sleep "emo" moments. If he wanted to, he could fall asleep in 0.93 seconds, thus avoiding wasting energy and allowing his body to get the maximum rest.

Before he closed his eyes, the milky white Milky Way shone brightly, casting an incredibly beautiful silhouette in his vision.

"It's so beautiful..."

He exclaimed sincerely, "These stars are so beautiful. I wish Shizuka could see them too."

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.

……

The smell of fresh blood.

The smell quickly brought Gian back to his senses—in peacetime, he was one of the few young people who frequently drew blood. Every time he represented his school in the Kanto and Kansai regional joint karate tournament, once he stepped onto the field, he would always lose control of his strength, unleashing all the energy he usually had nowhere to release, easily causing his opponent to bleed from the nose, but that was all.

A deafening roar erupted from all directions, accompanied by a cacophony of screams. The sound waves surged higher and higher, assaulting Fat Tiger's head. He shook his head, braced himself with his hands, and stood up. Through his shaky vision, he saw a soldier clad in wooden armor, wielding a long spear. The soldier was only about 1.5 meters tall, and even the simple armor seemed somewhat heavy on him.

"Go, go!"

"call out----!!"

A barbed arrow whistled through the air and pierced his neck. Hot blood gushed out, and the small soldier clutched his throat in agony before collapsing to the ground, making a choking sound.

"Hell..."

The sudden sight of someone dying jolted Gian back to reality. Startled, he broke out in a cold sweat, looked around, and screamed at the top of his lungs, "Suneo—! Shizuka—! Sugi—!!"

……

"It really has nothing to do with me, Mom—!!"

Amidst the battle, a familiar plea for mercy rang out. Fat Tiger's eyes lit up, and he dashed off, arriving just in time for the most crucial moment: two samurai-like figures were surrounding Xiao Fu, discussing something at breakneck speed. One of them was grabbing Xiao Fu by the collar, as if he were some kind of trophy, intending to drag him back, while the other shook his head repeatedly, drawing his blade, saying that taking Xiao Fu's head back would be just as good.

"ah----!!!"

After roaring, Fat Tiger showed no fear in the face of two armed opponents. He rolled forward, grabbed a fallen katana, and swung the blade toward the back of one of the men's knees.

"laugh!"

With a flash of the blade, the leg armor was split in two, blood splattered, and amidst screams, a samurai quickly put on a mask of pain, clutched his bleeding right leg, and collapsed to the ground.

The other man was still unaware of what had happened and was about to swing his knife when Fat Tiger flashed in front of him, reversed his grip on the knife, spun around, twisted his body, and slammed the hilt of the knife hard into his temple!

"Boom-!!"

The force pierced through the helmet, precisely targeting the samurai's head. His eyes instantly turned bloodshot, and a surge of power shot through his right temple. His brow twitched, and then he fell lifeless, collapsing to the ground without a sound.

"Gian—!!!"

Without exaggeration, at this moment, in Suneo's eyes, Gian was simply a god descended from heaven. Having almost lost his head just now, he didn't care about anything else, jumped up, and gave his sworn brother a bear hug.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Toyotomi's Empire, Approaching its Finale

"Sigh... I've broken my vow of never killing for you, kid. I never thought I'd ever have to use this move..."

Looking at the samurai lying motionless on the ground, his death somewhat gruesome, a strange feeling rose in Fat Tiger's heart. Despite his rough and tumble style, everyone has a heart of flesh and blood. Apart from a very, very rare few antisocial personalities, no one can guarantee a completely heartless heart when taking the life of another.

On the battlefield, where war rages, killing someone can happen in an instant. Caught in the thick of battle, he had no time to think about such things.

"What about the rest?"

"I didn't see any of them... Kosuke was thrown off halfway there, and we don't know where she is. Shizuka should have been with us." Suneo hadn't fully recovered from the panic he was in earlier, and his voice was trembling.

"Tsk... Forget it, this isn't the first time this has happened. It's similar to the Platinum Maze incident. It's time for our two surprise attacks to win again. Stop making that face! You're a man, so straighten up!"

He casually patted Xiaofu on the shoulder, nearly breaking his bone, and then began searching the battlefield, trying to strip the armor, swords, and weapons from the dead soldiers. This action startled Xiaofu again.

"What are you doing~~~??"

"Nonsense, this is obviously a battlefield, right? Swords and spears don't discriminate, I need to get something to protect myself first, what if arrows or something come flying at me and I'm not wearing armor, they'll just pierce me through?" Fatty Tiger didn't find the corpses scary at all, and said while helping me, "Don't just stand there like an idiot, come help me! I think people in this era are pretty short, about your height, take this off and put it on for you, quick!"

"..."

Xiao Fu was stunned. Seeing that he actually tried to remove the armor from the dead man, his expression changed repeatedly.

Somehow, her trembling legs stopped, and her face, which had turned pale with fear, gradually regained its color.

"Even if you were thrown into the apocalypse, you'd still become one of those ragged, powerful fighters, right?" Suneo muttered to himself in a very soft voice, his head slightly lowered.

"Ah? What did you say?"

"It's nothing." Xiao Fu shook his head and started walking. "I'll help you!"

……

As expected of a man who dreams of becoming a fashion designer, Suneo had also studied Japanese armor styles, so he naturally knew more about how to wear plate armor and leg guards than Gian, a roughneck. After a quick rummaging, the two changed into armor appropriate for the era and equipped themselves with weapons. However, Gian's physique was too tall, making him look somewhat constrained by the armor, while Suneo was too thin; at a glance, it was obvious that his armor was too big, as if it had been stolen from someone.

They were sneaky and suspicious.

The battlefield was wider than they had imagined. At the edge of their field of vision, large groups of soldiers were still fighting each other. Staying in the pile of dead bodies was not a good option.

"Damn it, anyway... let's get out of the battlefield first." Fat Tiger picked up a spear. Besides the twin swords at his waist, this was the third weapon he had collected. "Speaking of which, this should be the Warring States period, right? Can we go and join a daimyo, then work under him while waiting for Shizuka to come looking for us? She has a spare pouch, so finding us shouldn't be too difficult."

"Speaking of which, I did hear it just now. Those two soldiers questioned me... 'Are you also a sorcerer under Hideyori?'" After calming down, Suneo immediately demonstrated the excellent reasoning ability of a wartime strategist. "Gian, doesn't the term 'sorcerer' sound familiar?"

His furrowed brows gradually relaxed.

"You mean, someone is using futuristic gadgets?"

"In the Stone Age, Doraemon was revered as 'Doraemon Zumbi' by the locals simply for showcasing the bamboo copter. What's a 22nd-century scientific invention seems almost like sorcery to modern eyes. Given the current situation, I suspect..."

"Is it Shizuka?" Gian immediately perked up. Although this clue was mostly based on his imagination, it still pointed him in the right direction, which was much better than running around like a headless fly. "Where is that Hideyori now? Let's go find him!"

“Hideyori…” Suneo began searching for the name in the vast knowledge base. When he came to his senses, his expression froze again, and he murmured, “Toyotomi Hideyori.”

Often, those successful second-generation heirs are simply using the platform provided by their parents; this is the best example right now. When Hideyori's name is mentioned, Gian doesn't even react, but as soon as his surname is mentioned, his memory immediately returns.

"Hideyoshi's son?"

"Hmm." Xiaofu nodded, his expression very solemn. "After Hideyoshi's death, the power of the Toyotomi family rapidly declined, and the country gradually fell into the hands of Tokugawa Ieyasu. In the summer of 1615, Hideyori, who was besieged in Osaka Castle, gathered all the troops he could mobilize, including many ronin loyal to the Toyotomi family... to launch a final counterattack."

"However, the huge disparity in troop strength rendered everything futile. In the end, Osaka Castle fell, and Toyotomi Hideyori's fate was to commit seppuku with his remaining confidants in a barn."

As soon as he finished speaking, the noisy battlefield seemed to fall silent instantly. As a person from the future, Xiao Fu had personally pronounced this undeniable truth, a statement that was somewhat cruel. Did the warriors and ronin still fighting on the battlefield know that everything they were doing was destined to be in vain?

The two looked behind them and saw a magnificent and fortified castle, indeed situated there. Bathed in sunlight, its towering white spires were incredibly imposing, stirring the hearts of those who coveted it. It was here that Toyotomi Hideyoshi became the ruler of the land, the Kanpaku (regent), and the most renowned man in Japan.

Unfortunately, despite Toyotomi Hideyoshi's desire to pass on the empire as a legacy, things did not go as smoothly as he had anticipated. Faced with death, he was, after all, just an ordinary person.

"Wait, if that's the case..."

"History cannot be changed. Once Osaka Castle falls, Shizuka's situation will be very dangerous!"

The two brothers exchanged a glance and said in unison, "We must get into the city immediately!"

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.

In a secluded room atop Osaka Castle's main tower, Shizuka stood by the window, gazing into the distance. Warm-colored clouds filled the sky, and distant shouts of battle echoed on the wind, reaching her ears. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"I'll say it again, no." Shizuka's voice was cold. In fact, she rarely spoke to others in this tone, but she had no other choice but to cut off their hopes. "If miracles kept happening, they wouldn't be miracles anymore, would they?"

"But... Genji-sama..."

Although he couldn't hold back, the title of "messenger" was indeed correct. Shizuka's family name was Minamoto, so in a sense, Nobita could be considered a descendant of the last noble family.

"You did indeed command the heavens to make rain, thwarting the Tokugawa clan's fire attack. Now, with their army pressing in, Lord Hideyori desperately needs you to perform your Shinto magic once more. You know that the Toyotomi clan should be the rightful rulers to unify the land, and that Tokugawa Ieyasu is nothing but a clown trying to usurp the throne! As a descendant of the Minamoto clan, you should be even more capable of discerning loyalty from treachery and helping the Toyotomi clan reclaim the land!"

……

"That rain was to repay General Nobushige's life-saving grace. Now that the grace has been repaid, I owe no one here anything."

The Time Machine strikes, and Shizuka is separated from her companions. Already upset, she has little patience for this unreasonable demand that borders on moral blackmail.

Pointing to the doorway.

"go out!"

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Future That Must Be Changed!

“Bang!!”

The sound of a plate shattering startled Toyotomi Hideyori, who immediately drew his sword and swept all the dishes off the table, also chipping off a corner of it. His gaze was blazing, as if he wanted to kill, as he roared, "Incompetent fool! Can't you even handle something this simple?!"