Nobita's Time Heist

The girl opened her eyes with difficulty, her emerald eyes sweeping over the three of them one by one, and she uttered a few syllables.

“Ah… Asur…”

"Asur?" Fat Tiger frowned upon hearing this. "That's your name?"

The girl nodded.

"Asur...chan?" After hesitating for a moment, Nobita also felt that adding this nickname was a bit inappropriate, and gave a wry smile, "Don't be afraid, we are not bad people. Some strange things have happened on this ship, and we are here to investigate this."

"strangeness?"

As if she hadn't spoken to anyone in a long time, Asur spoke haltingly. Her voice was clear and melodious; it was hard to imagine that such a delicate, mermaid-like voice could appear on a ship sailing towards a new world.

"Are you here to investigate 'Dragon Disease'?"

"Dragon disease?" This novel term caught Da Xiong's eye, and for the first time, he felt like he had found a clue.

The girl was a little nervous about the word. As she hurriedly got up, she tugged at the hem of the clothes that Da Xiong had draped over her. "I... I'm sorry, I don't know much about it either. That's what the people on the ship call it."

“Wait a minute… Yes, it says ‘dragon sick’ on it.” Dekisugi quickly flipped through Jamie’s logbook and nodded. “Seven days ago, a crew member had a persistent high fever and was extremely agitated. The ship’s doctor gave him medicine, but it didn’t work. Just as they were about to isolate him, they discovered scales growing on his skin. They were in clumps, densely packed, and extremely hard. The ship’s doctor tried to remove them with tweezers, which resulted in a bloody mess…”

Upon reading this, images comparable to torture flashed through the minds of the three, and Nobita couldn't help but frown.

Dekisugi turned a page and continued reading.

"On the fourth day of the spread of the dragon disease, some sailors began to talk nonsense. They drowned their sorrows in alcohol, and in their vomiting after a hangover, they saw huge reflections in the sea. They claimed that there was some kind of indescribable giant monster in the sea, which was watching our every move."

"On the sixth day of the spread of the dragon disease, all attempts failed. More and more people are showing symptoms, at varying speeds. The earliest patients completely lose their human appearance, sprout wings on their backs, grow tails from their tailbone, their heads become blunt, their teeth fall out and are replaced by sharp claws and teeth."

"On the seventh day of the dragon disease, human food has become inedible for them. Only gold can alleviate the unbearable hunger. Our captain has ordered all the gold artifacts on board to be gathered together. But... I am not optimistic about the prospects of this voyage. We have entered the most evil hell, with no way to turn back."

"This is God's punishment—there is no other explanation. God turned us into dragons to punish our misconduct. This voyage was wrong from the start, and people should learn from our lesson and never set foot on the sea again in their lifetime."

"If future generations see these records, please remember that Jamie Guswazi met his end as a human being."

On the last page, his handwriting was so illegible that it seemed to be a hastily written last will and testament, written after he knew his days were numbered.

The heavy rain continued to fall, but the oppressive atmosphere made it hard for them to breathe.

"So, this is where 'Dragon Disease' comes from? It turns people into dragons?" Fat Tiger wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, looking at his hands. "Is it okay if I get a little blood on my hands? I think I just got grazed by their claws..."

"This isn't a normal illness, is it? The logbook says it's a curse."

“Nobi-kun, how can you believe what people from the 15th century say?” Dekisugi shook his head, lightly tapping the cover of the logbook with his finger. “In an era before science flourished, there were always some superstitious beliefs that held sway. They attributed everything they couldn’t understand to gods and monsters. But in fact…”

“No!” Asur, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly spoke, his emerald eyes almost overflowing with fear. “It wasn’t a curse. I… I saw it with my own eyes. That night, a blue animal that looked like a raccoon appeared on the ship. It was holding a small notebook, which it showed to a sailor. Then, as if it were under a spell, it let the sailor wander around the deck!”

"That raccoon dog spread something on the boat, that's for sure!"

The plot took a sudden turn, Nobita's heart clenched, and his pupils behind his glasses dilated and contracted sharply.

[Devil's Passport]? [Universal Pass]? [Wish Card]?

It's all possible.

"tanuki?"

“I don’t know what kind of animal it is; I’ve never seen it before.” Asur bit his finger. “I was just about to go to the toilet when I saw it…”

"You got up to go to the bathroom and saw something weird?" Gian glanced at Nobita beside him and muttered, "This plot feels a bit familiar."

"Asur, think carefully." Despite his reluctance, Nobita took out an old photo he had taken of Doraemon from his pocket and asked, "Is this what the big blue raccoon you're talking about looks like?"

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.

dong dong!

dong dong!

……

The heart is racing.

The girl squinted, carefully examining the figure in the photo. Those few seconds felt like an eternity to Da Xiong. He almost held his breath, praying that after the long wait, he would receive a negative answer.

however……

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.

“Yes, it’s him.” Asur nodded, certain. “With such a peculiar shape, I couldn’t possibly be mistaken.”

Chapter Twelve: The Ropes of Justice

Rumble——!

No thunder fell from the sky, but to Da Xiong, it sounded like the world collapsing. For a few seconds, he even forgot to breathe. When he came to his senses, he felt dizzy, as if the gloomy sky was about to press down on him.

"Nobita, calm down!" This time, it was Shizuka's voice coming through the headset, comforting him, "Cat-type robots produced in the same batch are all the same, right? There's no concrete evidence to prove that it's Doraemon (Shizuka's nickname for Doraemon, which literally translates to "Little Doraemon")..."

"Do not."

Before she could finish speaking, Da Xiong gritted his teeth and spat out the word, his shoulders hunched, as if his whole body was straining.

"You may not know this, but the blue cat-shaped robot... there's only one Doraemon. There's a special reason why he became like this. If I'm not mistaken, all the cat-shaped robots in that batch should have a golden-yellow body and two cat ears. Such a peculiar appearance, and the fact that it just happened to appear on the ship, can't be explained by coincidence no matter what."

Unlike his usual slow and leisurely nature, Nobita started talking faster and faster, completely ignoring his friends' comments and falling into constant self-doubt.

"But if Doraemon really did it, what would he gain from it?" Gian scratched his head, immediately grasping the crux of the problem, "If America is gone, what benefit would he get?"

“Floch said that if the time tsunami threatens the 22nd century, even the established plan of ‘the birth of cat-shaped robots’ could be affected,” Dekisugi added. “Such a terrible future…”

……

"What an extreme display of arrogance, you 'strangers' from time travel."

A deep, powerful voice suddenly boomed from above. Looking in the direction of the sound, they saw a massive half-dragon standing atop the cabin, arms crossed, looking at them with a hint of mockery. He was unlike any of their enemies so far; his appearance alone revealed him to be an elite monster—his physique was far more robust, his scales were covered in gilded patterns, and the thud of his landing even smashed two large holes in the wooden deck.

Gian's astonishment more directly expressed his initial impression.

"Holy crap, Golden Frieza!"

"A terrible future? Do you have the right to define what is 'bad' and what is worse?"

The half-dragon spread his hands, and a cold smile appeared on his face, which should have been that of a cold-blooded animal. "You people... are just representatives sent by the future beneficiaries. They want to maintain the world that they benefit from so that they can continuously extract profits. That's all there is to it."

"Space and time have their own consistency! What has happened should have happened."

Dekisugi stepped forward, arguing without backing down, "No one can deny that the emergence of the United States of America has an irreplaceable significance in human history. All nations are the same; they are all pre-assembled pieces of a picture. To deny history is to deny humanity!"

"..."

The half-dragon narrowed his vertical pupils slightly and took a few small steps to the side. Nobita's air cannon immediately followed suit, its aiming scope always locked on Nobita's head.

"It's a pity, strangers... what you see and what you cling to are nothing but... fragments of the phenomenal world, which are completely irrelevant."

He stared back into Nobita's eyes, his head jutting out like a typical amphibian, and sneered, "Nobita, hello."

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 more outrageous and shocking the words, the more composed Nobita becomes—it's beyond imagination.

In fourth grade, when faced with a parasite that had possessed a giant robot and completely taken control, Nobita was able to hold his ground and feign death when the front line collapsed, using his own body as bait to lure the enemy into battle before killing them with a single shot.

It must be admitted that some players with a strong mentality are born for big occasions.

Despite the immense amount of information conveyed in the half-dragon's greeting, he merely twitched his eyelids.

"Hello." Sensing something was amiss, he reached into his pocket with his right hand, groping for the item he wanted. "Can you give our future back?"

"Forget that future, Nobita. It's just a false shadow cast by flames on the cave walls."

"?" Upon hearing his description, Dekisugi frowned, as if remembering something. After a moment's thought, he decided not to speak at that moment, lest he disrupt Nobita's concentration.

The half-dragon slowly walked towards them. The oppressive aura emanating from him immediately put Fat Tiger on alert. He clenched his fists and assumed a standard karate attack stance.

"As predicted... your 'spiritual perception' is among the best I've ever seen in any human. It's a pity that such talent is buried in the steel jungle, leading a mediocre life and ending with a pathetic human identity."

He spread his arms, intentionally or unintentionally showing them his sharp claws and sturdy scales. "You should be with us, Nobita. Don't resist your talent, embrace the surge of spirituality, and you will only find a newer, more beautiful world!"

"In that world, there is no more conflict, no more exploitation, no more pain, and no more of the chaos you see. There is only endless harmony and perfection after spiritual sublimation."

He stretched out his mutated dragon claws and said with utmost devotion, "Come on, Nobita!"

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.

Nobita remained unmoved and said coldly, "To me, the world with Doraemon is the best world. History must get back on track, and Columbus must discover the New World... If you don't step aside, it'll start with you!"

"Hahahaha—!!" The half-dragon in front of him suddenly burst into laughter. His claws grew rapidly, and with a light scrape on the deck, five claw marks appeared. "Poor Nobita, even if you kill me, history cannot be restored to its original course."

A glint of light flashed in their amber vertical pupils, and the half-dragons who had been knocked to the ground rose again, like puppets manipulated by strings.

Even those who had been thrown into the sea climbed back up the ship's deck, forming a tight encirclement around the group. These half-dragons, transformed from the crew members, seemed to have been buffed and entered a bloodthirsty state, their mouths wide open and their bodies crouching low, like a pack of wolves hunting their prey.

"Because I am Columbus."

The golden half-dragon snapped his fingers and sneered, "I have already foreseen that hopeless future. Once history itself changes, even you will be powerless..."

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 words abruptly stopped as Nobita threw a glass bottle. His throwing skills had never been great, but this time, as if divinely inspired, he managed to throw it right in front of the half-dragon.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment; through the zoomed-in vertical pupils, one could even see a label affixed to the bottle.

The Rope of Justice.

(Extremely dangerous!!)

……

"boom!"

An air pellet shot out and accurately shattered the bottle. Countless seeds scattered all over the ground like sesame seeds. Soaked by the rain, they quickly swelled up and turned into ropes with eyeballs at both ends for capturing them.

"Huh?" Columbus was seeing this thing for the first time. He was shocked and couldn't understand what Nobita was going to do.

"Ah??!!" Fat Tiger's shout was even more genuine, his face filled with fear. As someone who had experienced it firsthand, he knew all too well what this thing did, and he almost jumped up.

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 Rope of Justice: It grows when soaked in water and regenerates like an earthworm even after being cut. It automatically detects "unjust" human behavior and punishes it by binding people for a period of time. It has no concept of friend or foe; even if the user of the item commits a wrong, they will still be punished. Moreover, its judgment standards are extremely strict, and the rope is more inclined to morality than law.

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 next moment, all the ropes of justice turned around and rushed towards Columbus with a whoosh!

Chapter Thirteen: Hydra

What exactly is justice?

Ever since he used the Rope of Justice once, Nobita, a fourth-grader, has been thinking about this question. Of course, most of his thinking time is spent in the few seconds he lies in bed and drifts into a dream.

Initially, when he asked Doraemon to bring out this gadget, he simply wanted to teach Gian a small lesson for his habit of beating people up. Besides, punishing each person with indefinite periods of binding based on their mistakes sounded reasonable, didn't it? Wouldn't the world be a better place if everyone followed the rules? —At least, before the gadget started working its magic, his thoughts were indeed quite simple.

Later, the rope of justice began to ravage the town, demanding perfection from everyone. Even the smallest mistake was punished indiscriminately, regardless of time or place, leading to widespread chaos. As this standard spread, it seemed that no one in the world was truly "innocent." Upon reflection, who can guarantee they've never told a lie in their entire life?

Absolute justice, like the "perfectly smooth plane" on a physics exam, seems to be an impossible thing.

However, compared to that, Gian's impression of it was much simpler.

……

"It's this thing again... ouch..." Fat Tiger couldn't help but shudder as he recalled the hour he was tied to the telephone pole. "You should at least call out before you use it, so I can be mentally prepared."

"Sorry, sorry, next time. Next time I'll definitely shout before taking out the props." Nobita waved his hand, then turned his gaze back to Mr. Columbus, who had just made such a grand statement, now wrapped up like a dumpling.

The contrast was somewhat comical. He racked his brains but couldn't figure out what was going on. He struggled left and right in frustration, roaring repeatedly, but he couldn't break free from the restraints of justice. And without his control, the half-dragons who had been surrounding him all went offline, collapsing onto the deck with a thud.

"ah----!!"

His anger seemed to overflow from his body, and his sharp claws finally managed to cut a few ropes through a gap. However, before he could do anything, the broken parts instantly split in two and were tied up again. This time, every joint of his, even his large tail, was tightly bound, constricting his skin.

"Alright, Mr. Columbus."

Nobita walked slowly to his side and squatted down. "I have a few questions to ask."

"Ha, even if I'm temporarily captured, it won't change anything." He turned his head away disdainfully and said coldly, "Do you expect me to tell you everything..."

"Snapped!"

Nobita didn't waste any more words with him and directly used the "Integrity Tape" to stick it on his forehead.

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.

"Seven days ago, a strange creature appeared in my captain's cabin. He showed me a strange little book, and I felt a flash before my eyes. In that instant, I felt the breath of a dragon, as if I were bathed in that hot and sacred breath, and scales grew on my wrist..."

“Wait a minute,” Dekisugi interrupted. “Didn’t he inject you with anything else, or give you any medicine? Did he just show you a page in a book?”