Nobita's Time Heist

"I don't care where you are or who you are..."

He stared intently into the Mother of Insects' eyes and said, word by word, "Don't even think about touching a hair on my friend's head!"

……

This menacing warning finally made the girl lift her eyelids and glance at him.

"You are somewhat similar to the warriors of the Aztec civilization. At least, you are much better than those who rely on external things."

Her tone was light and airy, showing no sign of being at a disadvantage despite having her wrist stepped on.

“Violence is the last resort of the incompetent. Those who glorify and squander violence are essentially incompetent. No matter the era, they will never rise above others and will only become appendages of others.” Her voice rose and fell, like the strange accent that occasionally emanated from the backstage of an old theater. “Just like in your current team, you are his appendage… that’s your situation.”

“When he no longer needs you, or one day when you can no longer provide the violence he needs, he will abandon you, just like all leaders in history.”

The Mother of Insects' pupils turned a deep emerald green as she unleashed mind-altering magic, attempting to dismantle the team from within. From her perspective, if the opposing forces were to fight amongst themselves, the cost of this battle would be significantly lower.

but……

The magic that had always been effective seemed to have encountered an impenetrable wall this time, and it remained insurmountable.

The soles of the shoes, which were pressing against my wrists, showed no sign of loosening.

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.

……

"Why?" The Mother of Insects showed such a confused expression for the first time. "Even those who are related by blood are, in the end, just 'others'. What's more, you are not related at all, just 'friends' who met by chance... Friends, this should be the most fragile relationship in the world."

"Why do you trust him so much?"

Chapter 134: Our friendship transcends instinct!

Nobita raised his hand and stopped Shizuka from stepping forward.

"Nobita?"

"Don't worry, Shizuka, look at Gian's left hand..."

Not far away, Fat Tiger, with an extremely risky move, pinned the Mother of Insects to the ground. Judging from what had just happened, this advantage was nothing at all, and there was no evidence that she needed to use her hands to activate her ability. In other words, she could have easily pushed Fat Tiger off at any time, but she didn't. The only possibility was that the two were talking, and the Mother of Insects had gained some interest from him.

Don't let Gian's usual recklessness fool you. Once he's on a grand adventure, you'll find that his "recklessness" is actually quite methodical—a Zhang Fei-style recklessness that's both rough and sophisticated. For example, in their adventure to the Demon World, Medusa uses magic to impersonate Miyako, tricking Nobita and his friends into retrieving the "Journey to the Demon World" from a cave.

However, when Gian handed it over, he only took out the first half of the scroll. Medusa, impatiently tearing off the skin, also only managed to snatch the first half, leaving a spark of resistance for them. Why did Gian only give Medusa the first half? Was it due to his meticulous analysis, leading him to the conclusion that "this Miyako before him seems somewhat strange"? Or was it based on some kind of animalistic intuition? That's no longer important.

Importantly, at this moment, he clenched his left hand into a fist, placed it behind his back, and deliberately shook it a few times at Nobita and the others.

"What does Xiaowu mean by this?" Shizuka asked curiously. "Is it some kind of code?"

"No, that's not it... Actually, when I used to play baseball, I would never look where I was going when I caught the ball, and I would often bump into my teammates." Nobita couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed when he talked about this. "To prevent this from happening, Gian designed a series of hand gestures, each of which represents a different tactical action."

"This gesture now means: My teammate has the ball, so I should stay put."

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.

"Why not use your imagination? Now... you're not on this sandy ground that hurts your back anymore. You're flying, and you're flying in the Cretaceous sky! Behind you, a whole bunch of pterosaurs are chasing you with flapping wings. Your flying speed isn't very fast, and if you make a slight mistake, you'll become their meal."

"Your imagination seems a bit ahead of its time," even the Mother of Insects couldn't help but remark. "The magic of time travel? Even in my world, that kind of thing belongs to the category of 'fantasy'."

"Suddenly, my flight device ran out of power and stopped completely. My body began to fall, about to hit the bottom of the valley, or before that, become food for pterosaurs." Fat Tiger ignored her, gave a cold laugh, and continued, "Let's say you are my companion now, and you are right next to me."

"Everyone's flight equipment is in similar condition; even a slight increase in load could be fatal."

He squinted, as if looking at her, but his gaze passed right through her, briefly lost in the howling wind of the Cretaceous valley.

"At this point, what is your choice?"

……

After a few seconds of silence, the Mother of Insects seemed to have truly immersed herself in that scenario. She possessed a meticulousness typical of a science student; once she got into character, she was definitely not out of character. Even though the two were still enemies, she still said, "If we were allies, we would definitely come to your rescue."

"Heh...you're surprisingly humane." Fat Tiger chuckled ambiguously. "Too bad, it's too late."

"Because you 'thought' for about three seconds, in those three seconds I had already fallen to the bottom of the valley and smashed into pieces."

The Mother Insect paused, somewhat surprised by the result. "According to you, it's impossible for anyone to react in such a short time. It's a biological instinct to seek advantage and avoid harm. When helping you might threaten your own life, anyone would hesitate."

"Instinct... huh?" Gian smiled again. "Perhaps that's it."

"You're wondering why I trust Nobita so much, aren't you? This is the answer." His gaze drifted to the empty space, firmly believing that in this invisible void, there were his companions. "My 'friendship' with him transcends instinct—!"

The significance of this conversation seems to lie not only in reminiscing about the past, but also in buying nearly a minute of time for our side in a battle where every second counts.

The hidden move that had been laid in wait has finally come into play.

"【Step Stop Machine】————!!"

(Station Stopper: This device can force a person to stop walking, rendering them unable to move and putting them into a "frozen" state. This effect can be lifted by the user. It comes from "Gian's Horrible Birthday Party," where Gian anticipates that his friends might find various excuses not to attend, so he borrows this device from Doraemon in advance.)

Holding his breath and concentrating, Suneo, who had been hiding in the shadows, finally got his chance. Before Gian could give the order, he instinctively pressed the button and shouted with great enthusiasm. Actually, it didn't matter whether he shouted or not, since he was still wearing the [Stone Hat], no one would hear him even if he shouted himself hoarse.

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 Mother Insect's pupils contracted instantly—a sign that wild animals are alert. A tingling sensation spread through her body, and she realized that her movements were restricted. All the muscles in her body went unresponsive at the same time, and she couldn't even lift her eyelids.

Her pupils changed color rapidly, and although her body was unable to move, it did not hinder the flow of her psychic power. Centered on her, the surrounding ground was torn apart, and Fat Tiger's body was also supported by the force field, levitating together.

"Nobita, now's the time—!!"

……

"Clap!"

A soft sound.

The girl lying on her back tried desperately to understand what was happening. She strained to look up, but all she saw was a wooden door that had suddenly appeared behind her. The cold touch on her forehead told her that she must have been put on a headband or something similar, but she couldn't move a single finger, let alone take it off.

"Hmph, are you planning to use illusion magic on me?"

As the moment approached, a cold smile crept across her delicate face. "Too many people have tried this trick on me, and all have failed. This kind of magic only works on weak mortal souls. Only by seeing through the illogicalities of this illusionary world can one quickly..."

"Unfortunately, this isn't an illusion." Nobita didn't say much more, and with a click, pressed the button on the machine. "[Life Reset Machine]—!!"

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.

Over the years, "starting over" has been given an absurd meaning, with some interpreting it as a physical restart. But the original design of this device was actually to make up for people's regrets—if only they had done it that way back then; if only they could go back to childhood, but only they could retain the intelligence of an adult... Any normal person would inevitably have such thoughts once or twice.

Nobita once used it to go back to when he was in first or second grade, but he retained the cognitive level of a fourth grader, so he could say that he really got to experience being a child prodigy.

However, this is merely a realistic experience that connects everything from the past. If one doesn't wake up in time, they may become addicted and face negative consequences.

but……

At this moment, it seems that we can't care about these things anymore.

Press the knob.

Like an old-fashioned projector starting to pull the tape, black and white light flashed alternately before her eyes. The Mother of Insects felt a jolt all over her body, and a strong push came from behind, engulfing her.

Chapter 135: The God Was Actually Myself

The black and white lines vanished rapidly, weaving together a completely unfamiliar environment. Nobita opened his eyes, which had been constantly glared at by the bright light, and found that everything around him had changed drastically. Sand, stone pillars, the intense battle—all traces of his memories had vanished.

Instead, a colossal building stands on the shore of the lake. Square stones, neatly stacked together, spring up from the ground like bamboo shoots after a spring rain. Its builders seem to have enjoyed fooling people; it starts out square, gradually becoming curved as you go up, finally converging at the top of the tower into a stone arch.

Da Xiong couldn't guess its specific effects, but judging from the solemn atmosphere, he assumed it was a temple.

"Calm down, calm down... phew..."

He took two deep breaths, looked at his reflection in the lake, and said in a deep voice, "Just like before, Doraemon has appeared in my memories. Now, I am the user of the gadget, and my presence here means the gadget has succeeded! This should be Narniadis's memory. The next step is to find her!"

Doraemon was able to quickly find Nobita because Nobita had lived in the same room of the same house since childhood, and his daily routine hadn't changed much, making him quite easy to find. Nobita, however, faced a completely different problem: he had no idea where he was, it might even be another universe. The gadgets led him to a crucial memory point, but there was no trace of Narniadis.

However, this was no big deal for him.

"【The Search Cane】!" He planted the cane on the ground and said, "Tell me the direction of Narniadis."

"Drip... drip..."

After circling twice, the cane resolutely lay down on the ground, pointing towards the interior of the enormous temple.

"I knew it. We're already here, how could it be somewhere else?" Nobita sighed helplessly, took out a [Pass Ring] from his pocket, and muttered, "It has a 75% probability, isn't that much higher than guessing the answer to a multiple-choice question?"

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.

"Clap!"

"Clap!"

……

The sound was as dense as raindrops, and the giant flying insects hovering in the sky fell one after another like drones that had run out of power. This scene was enough to kill Shizuka—she was particularly afraid of insects, let alone this terrifying number that could send anyone with trypophobia to the brink of death; it was like a torrential downpour of insects!

Fortunately, loyal treant warriors stepped forward and formed a circle, using their burly bodies as shields to keep the group in the middle and prevent them from being directly attacked by flying insects.

"This is absolutely the most terrifying scene I've ever seen in my life." Hearing the "thump-thump" of insects hitting the treetops, Shizuka was still shaken, her face pale with fright. "Nothing else compares!"

“However, the fact that this happened means that Nobita’s plan has succeeded, right?” Suneo said as he removed the invisibility equipment piece by piece. “These insects are directly controlled by the subconscious of the Insect Mother. Now, her consciousness has been sent into her past memories by this gadget, and the connection with the insects has naturally been severed.”

"What kind of tactic is this? In the end, it's still just talk-no-jutsu, right? It's just not in reality, but in a fictional space." Gian picked at his ear, looked at Nobita and Narniadis who were both lying on the ground, and couldn't help but say, "The outcome depends on whether Nobita can convince her."

"However, when it comes to verbal skills, Nobita has never lost to anyone. In the previous adventure, he was quite good at pretending to be a wise older brother."

"Xiao Wu!" Jingxiang scolded, "What kind of talk is that?"

"Don't speak too soon," Xiaofu shook his head, his face still lacking optimism. "According to our previous thinking, it's not like we can just finish talking to her and that's it. Even if we convince her there, once she wakes up and takes control of this body again, no one can guarantee what will happen. What if she shows any aggression..."

He looked up, gazing in the direction of the Great Archives.

The swarming insect tide that had blotted out the sun had dissipated, and Yggdrasil seized the opportunity to frantically project seeds outwards. The green line spread across the Golden Land at an exponential rate, and various types of treants for attack were continuously produced. Having learned from their experience fighting the insectoids, the lethality of this generation of treant warriors had naturally increased significantly.

Soon, the emerald canopy covered everything. Even in the heart of the sacred site, the World Tree, reaching straight to the sky, was clearly visible when one looked up, and nothing could obstruct its view anymore.

"Xiaoshan has a backup plan."

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.

It was less a temple and more a colossal palace, shrouded in a faint mist. It was unusually high, with a burning torch hanging on the wall every few dozen meters, seemingly intentionally obscuring the details of the inner walls. Da Xiong strolled through it, overwhelmed by the extremely solemn atmosphere, instinctively slowing his steps and barely daring to breathe.

He saw all sorts of statues, existing in the form of sculptures, seemingly made from the same type of stone. In the dim firelight, mottled shadows were cast on the wall, covering their sides and making their expressions incredibly profound, carrying a divinity that mortals could not fathom.

There is a god who holds a wooden staff, has a long beard, and has a kind appearance.

There are gods with halos above their heads, solemn expressions, looking down upon the human world.

A god who controls lightning, tramples demons underfoot, and seems to be roaring.

He was a god with three eyes on his forehead, possessing extraordinary martial prowess and an indifferent expression.

There are burning flames.

There is a soaring dragon.

……

Various statues of gods stood here. Da Xiong could name some of them, such as Poseidon from Greek mythology or Amaterasu, an indispensable figure in Japanese mythology, but most were unfamiliar. He even saw some very abstract beings. These beliefs, being so primitive, appeared barbaric and distorted. Yet, the sculptor's skill was superb. He didn't pay attention to details, achieving a "spiritual resemblance without physical resemblance" with minimalist techniques, which made Da Xiong's scalp tingle.

The hall was vast, filled with statues of gods, yet regardless of their rank or the number of believers, all the statues received the same offerings: only three small candles placed at their feet. The light they produced could not even illuminate the backs of their feet.

Countless statues of gods, and countless eyes, watching him walk beneath them. Da Xiong felt like a sneaky ant. Suddenly, a pressure surged within his skull, as if it would burst his eyeballs. He had to remove his glasses, rub his eyes, and grit his teeth, muttering, "This is really weird… these must all be memories, right? She's been to such a strange place before?"

……

After putting on the glasses, something even stranger happened.

In a statue that was neither entirely eerie nor entirely magnificent, he saw himself. This discovery caused his breath and heartbeat to stop almost simultaneously.

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.

I see this face every morning when I wash up; there's no way I could mistake it. This comical face, like a cartoon character (this is Nobita's own words), appears in this long corridor, standing alongside the gods. It gazes into the distance, its expression somewhat somber. In my memory, I only ever had the exact same expression on the night Doraemon left.

……

He seemed to hear himself sigh.

Chapter 136: All People Receive His Blessings

The sensory experiences brought about by fear and eeriness are completely different.

Many American horror movies seem to simply push the boundaries of "face-jumping kills," "terrifying background music," and special effects, constantly stimulating the audience's senses—equivalent to spending an hour and a half in a haunted house. While this adrenaline-pumping approach is certainly exciting and has a market, it's merely "scary." In retrospect, at most, one might think, "That movie was really exciting; I'll bring my girlfriend to see it next time."

However, Nobita's current situation falls entirely into the latter category. He can't understand why his own sculpture appears in someone else's memories.

Perhaps it was because he had stood in the same place for too long, but things began to change. The light and shadow on the sculpture's face shifted more and more frequently, and Da Xiong even felt that if he stayed any longer, it might start to speak. Forced by this eerie atmosphere, he had no choice but to pretend he hadn't seen anything, turn around, and grit his teeth as he walked forward. At first, he just walked, then he escalated to a brisk walk, and finally, even though nothing was chasing him, he found himself running without realizing it.

All the horror stories I've heard since childhood, like Kiku breaking plates and the No-Face Man, seemed to come flooding back to me at that moment.