Nobita's Time Heist

“Now is not the time to play the hero!” Arthur refused him without hesitation. “You stay with the main group. If there’s an opportunity along the way, leave as soon as possible. This trip isn’t a good deal, and there’s no reason to leave you two outsiders behind…”

"No, no, no, no!" Before he could finish speaking, Hosea quickly interrupted Arthur like grabbing a rebound, saying, "Arthur, let him stay and help you. Give him a few more guns. This kid isn't as weak as you think."

"What?" Arthur was utterly confused. "Hosea..."

But Hosea clearly wasn't going to explain. He simply grabbed Nobita's hands and held them tightly, as if he wanted to pass on all the luck he had in his life in that one grip.

“Child, I’m entrusting this to you,” he said meaningfully. “I’m entrusting everything to you.”

Nobita nodded knowingly, "Leave it to me."

“Alright, since you insist on this…” Dutch looked at them with a complicated expression. He suddenly raised his voice, as if asserting his dominance, and shouted, “Get moving! We only have three minutes. Within three minutes, take all the necessities, get on your horses, and let’s go for a ride in the snow mountain!”

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 three minutes, the huge villa was completely empty.

"They ran really fast." Asur sighed. "Sure enough, all that talk about loyalty and friendship is fake. When disaster strikes, everyone has to run for their own lives."

"You can't say that." Seeing that no one was around, Da Xiong began to take things out of his pocket one by one. "After all, there are women and children in this gang. When we run away, we have to take them with us. You can't expect them to be a fighting force, can you? If we leave them all here, we'll have to deal with the enemy and take care of them at the same time. Wouldn't that be even more troublesome?"

"You know there are children and women in the group!" Asur rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Going to the snow mountain... How far is the snow mountain from here? Setting off in such a hurry, without enough food and water, how many of you will survive when you get there?"

"I'll think of another way."

……

"Boom--!"

With a muffled thud, Arthur struggled to push the cabinet over, blocking the front door. He then moved two chairs over and used them to block the handles, preventing anyone from barging in. This ordeal was quite strenuous for him at his current level, and he inevitably coughed again. The coughing was so loud that Da Xiong was terrified, feeling as if Arthur might cough up blood and die at any moment.

"Alright, although I don't know why you two stayed to die with me, well... there's no other way. The guns are on the table, go pick whichever you like." He spat out the metallic taste of blood from his mouth, turned around, and said, "When the fighting starts, remember to aim from the windows, and each of you guard one entrance. When the time is right, we'll... what the...?!"

Halfway through the conversation, the vulgar language inevitably came out again.

The ground around Nobita was already littered with dangerous items, a mountain of grenades, and weapons that were completely beyond his comprehension but instantly recognizable as wildly popular. He held out his hand to measure; this thing was about half a person's height, and it would be difficult for an ordinary person to lift it with both hands. It was probably meant to be used by placing it on his shoulder.

“Arthur, you’ve probably already realized that Asur and I aren’t in the situation you imagine. We ended up in this era because of some unavoidable reasons,” Nobita asked earnestly. “Do you believe me?”

……

"Ah……"

With pursuers closing in and him trapped in a desperate situation, Arthur smiled when he heard this young man, whom he had only known for less than two days, say that he was willing to stay behind with him to cover their retreat.

"What, could it get any worse than this?"

"That's good." Nobita smiled knowingly. "Don't be too surprised no matter what you see later."

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.

Warhorses lined up and came to a stop, and from all angles, long guns and short cannons blocked the villa completely.

Hosea's timely notification bought the gang about ten minutes; had it been ten minutes later, not even a bird would have been able to fly out of there.

"That's it."

At the entrance to Shedi Bay, Agent Milton, a member of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, rode a white horse, took a megaphone from his subordinate, took a deep breath, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Dutch—!! The cat-and-mouse game is officially over! You've crossed the line of civilization and angered a powerful figure you should never have messed with. Look out the window, you have no way out!"

"We were supposed to take out your old partner in Saint Denis, but unfortunately, he got away. However, in the end, the outcome is the same."

“Come out, Dutch! Let’s end this with some dignity, even if you’ve been hiding like a gutter rat your whole life. At least, in your final moments, don’t let your companions suffer a painful death!”

……

The forest was quiet, and Milton's words of persuasion did not seem to have the effect he had anticipated.

“It’s no use, Milton. I know those guys. They’re all idiots who won’t learn until they’re faced with a death sentence. Reasoning with them is a waste of time.” Agent Ross frowned, his rifle already at the ready. “One word from you, and we’ll charge. Taking them down is just a matter of time.”

“Don’t be so impulsive, Ross. I know they’re all stubborn fools, but… Dutch’s gunmen are always pretty good marksmen. If we launch a direct assault, they’ll use the houses as cover, and the first wave of attackers will definitely not come back.”

Milton's analysis was logical and well-founded: "Conversely, we have already surrounded them, cutting off any possibility of external supplies. We only need to hold our ground and wait for their food to run out, at which point they will inevitably come out and fight like cornered beasts."

"At that time, it will naturally be possible..."

"call out------!!!"

A sudden shriek interrupted his tactical explanation.

Several rockets flew out of the old villa, landing among the crowd with a chilling whistling sound.

"boom------!!"

Loud noise.

Firelight.

In an era before rockets existed, no one had ever seen such a weapon before. They felt it was divine punishment from God. Otherwise, how could they explain the meteors mixed with flames? They flew out from the cracks in the windows and fell precisely into the crowd. The gunmen, who thought they were outnumbered and armed, were instantly engulfed by the burst of light.

The deafening roar startled even the horses beneath them, and fear quickly spread. Both men and horses were thrown to the ground by the violent shaking caused by the missiles. Without even seeing a shadow of an enemy, their side had already completed a process akin to a raging inferno, with men and horses falling and cries of agony filling the air.

Milton was stunned. He had to pull the reins tighter and hiss repeatedly to avoid being thrown off by the frightened horse.

"No... impossible... a bunch of bandits couldn't possibly have gotten their hands on such a powerful weapon. There's no way those guys in his gang could have gotten their hands on a weapon like this!" He was practically lying on his horse's back, gritting his teeth, pulling on the reins, and looking at the window from which missiles were being fired, his brows furrowed.

He made a judgment immediately.

“There are new people… no, there should be a new force involved!”

Is this the kind of firepower a gang should have? If you said there was an army hidden inside, no one present would doubt it.

Chapter Thirty-Five: I declare you the King of Ideas in the West!

"They really are all just for show." Arthur, carrying the spent rocket casing, peered through the window at the chaos outside and remarked, "I'm quite curious, under what circumstances would you use these weapons..."

[Deceptive Rocket Launcher] [Deceptive Missile] [Deceptive Hand Grenade]. (From the movie "Nobita's Dragon Knight." As the name suggests, these are purely deceptive; they only emit bright light and noise to simulate an explosion, but they don't actually cause any harm. Doraemon used them to deal with the underground people, but they were quickly seen through and were completely useless.)

"Perhaps it was in such a situation... I have no grudge against these people, and if possible, it would be best to stop them in this way without causing any deaths."

Even so, when Nobita looked out the window, he couldn't help but sigh.

Even the slightest sound can trigger a stress response in startled horses, throwing riders off their backs and causing them to run wildly. Dozens of horses running like that simultaneously would create a nightmare; many would be trampled or even killed. This wasn't a dinner party, but a real firefight. To expect to avoid injury entirely was wishful thinking. He could only deploy his limited weaponry, hoping the enemy would back down under the weight of the firepower.

But... unfortunately, not all of the large group of people on the other side were incompetent fools.

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.

"Don't panic, don't panic, we've been tricked!" Milton yanked on the reins and shouted, "There was no explosion, just sound and light! Don't lose formation!"

"But Agent Milton, the horse is already..."

"Then dismount and regroup! Dutch has gotten all these circus clown tricks from who-knows-where, don't fall for them!"

He immediately dismounted, pulled a rifle from his saddlebag, and shouted, "Let the horses run free, then follow me and drag old Daqi out of this dilapidated house!"

……

“Oh, Agent Milton, you just won’t give up, will you?” Arthur, somewhat exasperated with the persistent Pinkerton detective, drew his dual pistols. “Fine, as you wish…”

"boom--!!"

Before he could fire, a gunshot rang out abruptly beside him, startling him. Subconsciously, he still regarded Da Xiong and Asuer as two children who needed his protection, and saving Hosea was merely a coincidence.

He never expected that this seemingly frail boy could draw his gun in the blink of an eye and fire a single shot. The bullet entered through the scope of the Milton rifle, then exited from the other end with a clang, almost turning the gun into scrap metal.

"??!"

They only shoot guns, not people.

This effortless control over the gun sparked a terrifying thought in Arthur's mind. His usual sharp commentary during battles was completely absent now.

……

Nobita, however, didn't notice the change in Arthur's expression. He ate a pre-recorded [Voiceprint Candy] (requires a recorder; recording at least ten seconds of a person's voice produces a unique voiceprint candy for that person. After eating it, one can use that person's voice for thirty minutes, making it an excellent voice-changing tool).

"Don't go any further."

Arthur stared at Nobita in disbelief, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't understand how Nobita could conjure up such a perfect voice from his small frame.

“Hmph… Dutch, it’s been so long, your marksmanship has improved again.” Milton raised his left hand, signaling the people behind him to stop. “Do you remember me? We met at Clemens Point.”

"Of course, um... Mr. Milton." Luckily, Arthur had mentioned the other person's name when he muttered it to himself earlier, so Nobita wasn't too intimidated. "You've followed me all the way here, aren't you a little too fond of me?"

“Ha, sir? Why are you speaking so formally?” Milton sneered. “Look at the situation, Dutch. You’ve gone to great lengths to come up with these intimidating things to deal with me. I can still return what I said to you verbatim. Your group has traveled across almost half the state, all the way from Blackwater, and there’s only one reason for it.”

"You are the discarded children of civilization! Face reality, Dutch, nowhere will accept you except the gallows. You can't do anything anymore!"

"..." Da Xiong fell silent. Or rather, he couldn't hypnotize himself with absurd logic like Dutch did. It was 1899 already; what good could possibly come of a band of bandits?

What others say is actually all correct. What we really can't let go of is just that past pride, passion, and obsession.

"I can still shoot you through the head."

“I know…you can, of course you can, it’s your survival skill, isn’t it?” Milton simply threw down his gun, spread his arms, and stood in front of the door. “Go ahead, but you also know that this won’t change anything. My comrades will rush in and tear you all to shreds, without glory, without dreams…you will die a miserable death befitting criminals.”

“If you’re willing to accept this ending, Dutch van der Linde, then come on!”

……

The three people in the room fell silent. Arthur pulled his hat brim tighter and sighed heavily. It was as if some unseen enemy had him by the throat. This time, even his archery skills, which were among the best in his time, seemed unable to turn the tide.

What defeated him was not the bullets, but the times.

When the wheels of civilization rolled over them, all resistance seemed so insignificant.

“I understand… Agent Milton, give me five more minutes so I can have one last smoke.” At this emotional moment, Da Xiong’s imitation of Dutch’s voice took on a mournful tone. “Let me say goodbye to everyone properly. I’ll open the door in five minutes.”

“I can only give you three minutes.” Milton waved his hand, signaling everyone to step back. “Don’t try anything clever, Dutch.”

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.

"Arthur, do you have any money on you?"

"Why are you suddenly asking this? Are you planning to make me pay a ransom?" Arthur was amused by the thought. "They're after my head, and can you please stop talking to me like that? It feels like Dutch is asking me for money, that old bastard..."

"There's nothing I can do about it, the effects of the candy last for thirty minutes." Nobita insisted on reaching out his hand, "How much can you feel on your body?"

Arthur checked almost every pocket on his body, and found a total of $5000, which was a huge sum of money at the time.

"Okay, then..."

"【Vending Machine of the Era】--!!"

Arthur's jaw nearly dropped. "How did you manage to pull such a big thing out of such a small pocket?!"

"Let's talk about the details later. Right now..." Nobita snatched the US dollars from Arthur's hand without a second thought, and put them all in. He pulled the lever and said, "Give me one of the earliest Jeeps!"

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 vending machine's outlet trembled slightly, like someone with indigestion suddenly bending over to vomit, and then ejected a brand-new Jeep. Considering the difference in purchasing power of the dollar across different eras, Arthur's $5000 was essentially all gone...

"I see, I get it!" Asur exclaimed, a sudden inspiration striking him. "Jeeps were military vehicles produced in 1960. In this era, speed is a game-changer! We'll be driving away in a bit, right?!"

"What? This is a car?" Arthur stared at the steel monster, lost in thought. "Could it be the same thing as the trams in Saint Denis?"

"Um... well... that's a good idea. We can drive there in a bit." Da Xiong clearly hadn't expected this. He chuckled sheepishly and started rummaging in his pocket. "However, it's a little different from my original plan."

Holding the [Inanimate Hypnosis Horn] in his hand, Da Xiong took a deep breath towards the jeep.

"You're not an off-road vehicle, you're a Transformer!"

Asur was immediately dumbfounded and completely stunned. She probably never imagined that it could be played like this.

With unwavering conviction, Nobita repeated, "Believe in yourself! You're not just any off-road vehicle, you're a Transformer!"

Chapter 36: The New Autobots - Dollar

[Inanimate Hypnotic Speaker: This speaker can temporarily hypnotize "objects," giving them characteristics of other objects or living beings. It can temporarily bring life and movement to things that are originally inanimate, such as dolls and building blocks. Some objects are difficult to accept hypnotic suggestions and require repeated attempts. It is worth noting that this tool has a very strong ability to interfere with and modify reality, and should be used with caution.]

Nobita goes to great lengths to prevent his parents from throwing away his comics, even forming an alliance with Suneo, with whom he usually doesn't get along.

During that minor rebellious phase, this gadget truly shone, showcasing its many amazing abilities. Of course, in the end, it was ultimately useless; it took Doraemon's top-notch diplomacy to negotiate and persuade his mother to allow him to keep the comics, on the condition that he add thirty minutes of study time each day.

The only one who's really lost out is Suneo—he hypnotized his comic books into migratory birds, and they've all flown away. I guess he'll only be able to catch a glimpse of them from the sky a few times a year during the return season.

……

"Kukukaka!"

The exhilarating sound of mechanical transformation filled his ears. Arthur didn't even recognize it as a car, but the concept of "beauty" is universal.

At that moment, he genuinely felt that this off-road vehicle, transforming and expanding in size, was beautiful; its cold, metallic sheen exuded a raw, industrial aesthetic. Just like the first audience members who witnessed the entire transformation process on the big screen, and even more so from a first-person perspective, he was so shocked that he half-covered his mouth, unable to utter a sound.

"What nonsense! Is this even possible?!" Asur's tone was even more surprised, plus utterly bewildered. "This tool is supposed to be used to study the state of non-living things under some extreme conditions. How could you have thought of using it like this?"

While he was still making his comments, the two jeeps had already transformed. A robot nearly six meters tall, exuding a cyberpunk vibe, crouched down. Its azure blue optical glasses and the Autobot symbol branded on its forehead made Nobita secretly breathe a sigh of relief. He had been worried that he hadn't explained things clearly enough, and what if he had accidentally created a naturally ferocious Decepticon?