Nobita's Time Heist

For ordinary people, such advanced technology is no different from magic. At this point, what Shizuka was saying was becoming increasingly similar to the standard procedures in mythology. Huang Amao didn't doubt it; he took a deep breath, pinched his nose, and poured it down his throat. He held his breath, straining to "think," until the veins on his forehead bulged.

In the past, Liu Ran's teachings to him had become a sharp blade that pierced him. The symmetrical beauty of cause and effect was on full display at this moment.

"boom----!!"

His imagination is extraordinary!

A giant cutworm successfully appeared in the cave. Shizuka, who was already afraid of caterpillars and similar creatures, turned pale and gasped when she saw this giant "silkworm." But after glancing at the demon ginseng parasitizing the corpse opposite her, she chose the one that could solve the problem in the face of this dilemma.

"Roar----!!!"

As soon as the cutworm appeared, the ginsengs seemed to sense the presence of their natural enemy, and immediately cried out in fright, each of their tendrils floating into the sky. It was quite amazing that one day, the word "fear" could be discerned from the reaction of a group of plants.

Ultimately, they were just "plants," and most of their actions were purely instinctive. Once they detected a threat, they would turn and retreat, completely devoid of any tactics. As soon as they retreated, the skeleton soldiers, like robots that had been unplugged, all fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

“Okay, now…” Shizuka shouted suddenly, “US dollars!”

Amidst the clattering sounds of transformation, a jeep sped by, its taillights flashing, and slammed into half of the headless fungal man's body.

A tremendous impact followed, the hard hood flipping it to the ground. The car body disintegrated, and the mangled metal instantly transformed into a humanoid form, its cannon barrel pressed directly against the giant fungus. The azure plasma was compressed within the cannon barrel; one shot would reduce it to ashes at any moment.

"Great! The transformation tactic is a resounding success!"

Shizuka's excitement was palpable. Ever since the last time at Osaka Castle, she had been completely dumbfounded and ineffective, and Golden Country had also performed poorly. Until just now, she had finally used her understanding of the gadgets to truly turn the tide.

Just as she was about to reach out and give Asur a high-five in celebration, Shizuka's expression suddenly changed. She had wanted to endure it a little longer, biting her lip, but she couldn't bear it any longer and cried out in pain. A sharp pain suddenly shot through her arm, like being pricked by a needle, as if her entire arm had been pierced. But upon closer inspection, there was no bleeding at the site of the pain, and the back of her hand trembled involuntarily.

"Shizuka?" Asur was initially suspicious, then narrowed his eyes, grabbed her arm, and looked at her carefully, his expression changing repeatedly.

"My...my arm, it suddenly feels a little..."

“That bastard…” Asur clearly knew something, and despite his reluctance, he shook his head at the US dollar.

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.

“A wise choice, little girl.”

Liu Ran limped in, clutching his chest. Blood flowed onto the bluestone floor. Despite his terrible condition, he showed no sign of defeat. In his hand, he held a doll made of bundled wild grass, with a talisman pasted on its forehead and a nail stuck in its right arm.

……

"Shizuka!"

The Anywhere Door clattered open, and Nobita's pupils dilated in shock at the sight on the ground. He immediately crouched down to confirm that she wasn't truly injured; it was likely just some kind of hallucinatory pain. Even so, when he stood up again, the look in his eyes had completely extinguished any remaining pity.

"A spell?" Asur looked at the straw man pierced through with nails and said coldly, "If you can't beat them head-on, you resort to such a boring trick. Don't you feel ashamed?"

"To say something like that shows you know absolutely nothing." Liu Ran could no longer lift one of his arms. With his only movable arm, he raised the small straw figure with nails stuck in it and sneered, "Alright, kid, let's talk. I admit, your magic weapon is quite powerful, it can even turn people into other things... but there are always shortcomings."

He looked up at the giant insect and guessed that it was transformed from Huang Amao, and couldn't help but swallow.

This kind of magic that turns people into other things looks a bit like something from the "Investiture of the Gods" era, and it's getting more and more terrifying the more you look at it.

"Once that kid turns back into a human, we might as well ask him if my curse actually killed someone before..."

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.

"【Cursed Camera】—!!!!"

With things having come to this point, anger had overwhelmed all other emotions, and Nobita crossed a taboo he had set for himself.

Disgusting to disgusting, vulgar to vulgar.

"Crack!"

For people two thousand years ago, the flash of a camera was still too much to bear. Liu Ran felt malice spreading from Da Xiong, a pure malice devoid of any impurities, as if it contained all the negative emotions of the world. Daoist cultivators were quite sensitive to such changes in aura, and this sudden attack immediately made their hair stand on end.

A doll dressed in a black Taoist robe fell out of the camera. Da Xiong reached out and caught it steadily, then picked up a stone from the ground and smashed it hard on the doll's left arm.

……

"Woo——!!!"

A sharp pain shot through Liu Ran's arm, which immediately twisted to one side and fell limply to the ground, along with the grass doll in her hand.

Chapter 184: The Call of Loved Ones

"This...this...how is this possible?!" Liu Ran, kneeling on the ground, was covered in sweat from the pain, but she still gritted her teeth, tilted her head back, and tried to deny the reality before her eyes. "How can there be such a sect that teaches everything?! Even incantations..."

"Don't you really like this move?" Nobita said expressionlessly. "Coincidentally, I saw it a long time ago, it's nothing new."

What's truly despairing is when your supposedly best tricks are ruthlessly copied and rendered useless. Liu Ran seemed utterly resigned, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He stopped resisting and allowed Da Xiong to take out the [Magic Rope] from his pocket and bind him tightly. Da Xiong had originally intended to use [Integrity Tape] to at least ask him about his motives, but now, he was too lazy to ask anymore. The other party had crossed an absolute line he could not tolerate, exhausting all his patience.

What more is there to say about someone who is destined to die?

“I checked, found nothing else, the hole is empty.” Asur dusted off his clothes, frowning. “There’s a rotten smell, damn it…”

"I've already told you, Asur-chan, why won't you take a bath?" Shizuka asked, looking puzzled. "Given the situation today, you should at least take a bath, right?"

The girl glanced at the headless corpse lying on the ground, its body askew, and looked troubled. In the end, she just sighed and said nothing.

“This corpse is different from the others.” She pointed to the strange corpse whose head was parasitized by fungi. “Its function is similar to that of a queen bee, allowing those corpses parasitized by ghost ginseng to summon some kind of zombie monster… The yin energy on its body is heavy and stagnant, usually indicating that it harbored some kind of huge negative emotion before death, such as fear, resentment, or hatred, and was then manipulated by mysterious magic similar to necromancy after death to create it.”

"Burn it, and it will all be over."

With a click, the gun was loaded with compressed plasma and aimed at the body.

"Wait a minute." Huang Amao, who had drunk the transformation drink and transformed back into human form, suddenly spoke up, staring intently at Da Xiong, and said with utmost pleading, "Please, let me do this last step!"

His eyes held an incredibly complex mix of emotions, much like his feelings towards Liu Ran, especially after witnessing his true nature. There were simply too many unspeakable things he felt for her. Resentment, anger, gratitude, reluctance, longing… the contradictions of the human species were vividly displayed in him at that moment. Lacking formal education, he naturally couldn't unravel these complex emotions.

The irrefutable evidence of their heinous crimes is presented before us by these twisted and writhing ginseng roots, irrefutable proof.

But, was nearly ten years of raising and caring for someone a lie?

……

“I was going to say it wasn’t necessary, but if you insist… then let’s make it easy. I’ll have Meijin pile these bodies together and prepare torches for you so it’ll be easier to burn them.” He glanced at Liu Ran, who was bound hand and foot with the magic rope, and said in a deep voice, “If you have anything else to say, you’d better say it all now. We’ll be waiting for you outside.”

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.

crackle.

The sound of flames burning.

No one spoke, and the empty cave suddenly became a deathly place again, with gusts of cold wind blowing from the opposite side. The firelight flickered and shone, illuminating the boy's expression as if it were welded to his face. This was the first time he had looked down at his master, the person he had once known and respected most, who was now bound hand and foot, silently awaiting his death.

"...Will you tell anyone?" Liu Ran asked slowly.

“Unless they see it with their own eyes, no one will believe it even if I tell them,” Huang Amao shook his head, as if he had foreseen something, and laughed, “You will have a grand funeral… It will definitely not be as perfunctory as Old Zheng’s family’s. Everyone in the village who can still breathe will come back to pay their respects. Everyone will pool their money to hire an opera troupe to perform for you for seven days. You will be buried in the best feng shui place, and the whole village will cover you with white cloth.”

"Since you don't have any children anyway, if someone offers you a white envelope, I'll accept it on your behalf."

"Ah... whatever you want..." Liu Ran sighed, as if all the bones in her body had been removed. "Perfect timing, winter is almost over, the spring heat wave is the worst. Don't waste the money, buy yourself and your little one some new clothes."

"After I'm gone, sell the herbs to Old Deng in the next village. He pays less, but he's a good person and never defaults on payments, so that's enough."

Seeing that he looked perfectly normal and even had the energy to give him these instructions, Huang Amao pursed her lips and asked, "Don't you have anything else to say to me?"

"...What are you waiting for? For me to beg for mercy?" Liu Ran sneered, "My time was up a long time ago. It's already a pleasant surprise that I've been able to hold out until now. As for whether I'll have to go through hell or high water later...that's beyond my control. Just get to work and finish what you're supposed to do."

"Why did you do this?!" Huang Amao was still unwilling to accept it and questioned loudly, "How...how could you do such a thing?!"

"I forgot."

Liu Ran's tone was nonchalant, carrying a strange sense of detachment. He even gave a bitter smile and said, "My memory... has deteriorated a lot, and sometimes it gets confused. Let alone the initial motive, I can't even remember whether I've killed anyone before, or who I killed."

"You see, that ginseng was cultivated by humans... It's addictive and very dangerous. You must get rid of it all..."

Having given up the will to live, in his final moments, his consciousness grew increasingly weak, like an elderly person who drifted off to sleep mid-conversation. His breathing weakened, and only the faint rise and fall of his chest could be seen, as if he had suddenly become a frail old man of similar age. He lay there on the ground, no longer speaking, preparing to face his death.

Can good and bad things cancel each other out?

Huang Amao may never know.

"Goodbye, sir..."

He gently placed the torch on the flames, and the ghost ginsengs, as if sensing their impending doom, let out an incredibly piercing scream. Even though he knew they were evil spirits, seeing them slowly consumed by the flames, struggling desperately, was still hard for him to accept. Huang Amao sighed, frowned, and decided to walk away, out of sight, out of mind. There were no flammable materials nearby; the fire would naturally go out once the remains were burned.

but……

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.

A rustling sound suddenly came from behind.

The fungus-infested corpse slowly and stiffly rose to its feet. Although it was headless and flames had begun to rise from its body, Huang Amao still felt a chilling familiarity. He didn't know how to describe it; being stared at like that made his skin crawl.

Even though he had no mouth, he stood there, staring straight at me, as if he wanted to say something.

He is waiting.

Flames clung to his already discolored body, and in the blazing firelight, he heard a call.

“Amao…”

“Ah… Mao…”

Chapter 185: Farewell, Cage!

As the fire inside the cave died down, the sky gradually began to lighten, and the long night that had hung over Copperheart Village was about to end. Voices began to drift from the village, bringing with them the aroma of cooking smoke.

“It’s almost dawn, and the spirits of the underworld cannot be in the sunlight.” Chicken Foot God nodded to Da Xiong and said, “Othermans, thank you for your help this time.”

"That's nothing, it's just... out of curiosity, I wanted to ask." Nobita had pretty much gotten used to that somewhat frightening face, "Is there really a hell after people die? What happens to them there?"

“Your souls are not under our jurisdiction. In this land, the good deeds done in life cannot be offset against the evil deeds committed in life. To put it simply, we will first determine the degree of punishment the soul will receive based on the ‘evil’ it committed in life. Once the punishment is completely over, we will then arrange its fate in the next life based on the ‘good’ it did in life.”

"The next life?" Shizuka couldn't help but exclaim. "Are all people's fates written before they are even born?"

"About 80% is within our control," Chicken Foot God explained. "The kind of family a person is born into determines their social class. Unless the world descends into chaos, the children of peddlers, the children of poor families, and the children of royalty will lead orderly and unconnected lives. The things they know and the people they come into contact with are completely different."

Even the Yin gods are still deities; with just a few words, they have captured the unchanging reality of human society since ancient times.

In this life, the amount of things one can change through their own will is truly minuscule. You may have talent in a certain area, but if you never encounter a platform to realize it, your life will pass by uneventfully. After forty, most people's life trajectories are already fixed, and they can no longer create any significant waves.

"As for Liu Ran, he has defied the will of Heaven and stolen people's lifespans, committing an unforgivable crime. He will endure an extremely long period of punishment. For mortals, that number has lost its meaning. He will not be able to reincarnate until his crimes are fully repaid."

He didn't specify what the punishment was, and Da Xiong didn't ask for details. Ancient myths and legends are often particularly bloody and realistic; listening to them might cause physical discomfort. Slightly spreading its wings towards the crowd, the Chicken-Foot God's body gradually became transparent, transforming into a somewhat chilly morning breeze that brushed past the leaves and vanished.

After a rare good night's sleep, another new day is about to begin in Tongxin Village.

"In short, we can't stay in this village anymore. Liu Ran's death will be discovered soon. The villagers revered him so much; if they know his death is related to us, how will they let it go?" Jingxiang turned her head to look towards the village entrance. "And..."

“We’ve definitely spent far too long here.”

Hearing her words, Da Xiong realized that he had only resolved a trivial incident in a small rural village. Compared to the vast world, it was merely a drop in the ocean. The truly important people and matters were still waiting for them in Chang'an!

"Well then, let's not delay any longer, let's set off this morning! No more dawdling this time, I'll have the [spy satellite] take a picture of the map, input it into the Anywhere Door, and then we'll just open the door and go straight there..."

"Take me with you!"

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.

Huang Amao suddenly spoke, his tone incredibly firm, almost crossing the line into "request." All eyes immediately turned to him. Ever since dealing with Liu Ran's matter, he had been listless, his eyes seemingly dead, the blackness in his pupils congealed into clumps, swallowing all light.

At that moment, he suddenly spoke up, his tone carrying a resolute determination, as if even if Nobita rejected him, he would silently pack his bags and embark on his journey alone.

"I want to go to Chang'an, I really want to go to Chang'an, I must go!"

"Um, Amao." Jingxiang didn't know where to begin. As a child with both parents and a happy upbringing, she felt that whatever she said would sound like she was speaking from a position of privilege, and a pang of guilt rose in her heart. "Actually, there's no need to be in such a hurry, is there? Chang'an won't just run away. Such a big thing just happened in the village, and your relationship with him is special. Leaving at this time..."

"It's alright." His brows furrowed tightly, and there was an inexplicable obsession in his eyes as he looked at Jingxiang. "My parents are still waiting for me in Chang'an... They must be there, they must be! I must find them immediately."

Such a mental state is hardly healthy. Da Xiong had a vague feeling that something was wrong; his emotional shifts seemed a bit abnormal, but he didn't delve into it, assuming it was just that he couldn't accept the series of events that had happened after personally sending his mentor and father figure on his way, and that this was why he was acting strangely.

Perhaps, under these circumstances, taking him to Chang'an so that he can completely give up on this idea from now on wouldn't be a bad thing.

“If you insist on going, then come with us. However, we have some business to attend to in Chang'an, and we can’t afford to delay; we must leave immediately.” He nodded and asked, “Do you need to tell your sister before you go?”

Mentioning his sister seemed to bring a glimmer of light to his numb eyes as he looked towards the village where smoke was gradually rising from the chimneys. The sky remained clear and bright, just another ordinary day.

"...No, no need. I told her before that if I were to leave without saying goodbye one day, it would be because I've gone to Chang'an. I'll be back in six months to a year." In the end, he shook his head and said in a deep voice, "Aru isn't a child anymore. Even if I'm not around, she can take care of herself."

"It's quite a journey from here to Chang'an... Let's set off quickly!"

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 the cold underground cave.

"Crack!"

The only intact corpse emitted eerie sounds. "Liu Ran," who should have been completely dead, opened its eyes again and slowly "sat" up. Its movements were extremely stiff, like a puppet on the verge of falling apart under immense pressure. Its eyes were open, pupils filled with blood red, and remained open, no longer blinking.

From the silent vocal cords, a strange and hoarse cawing sound emanated, like crows circling in the cold underground.

"Dead, finally... After decades of waiting, the last Taoist priest of this sect is dead. A mere mortal, yet he managed to trap me with his flesh and blood for so long. He deserves praise..."

A dark shadow floated out from the corpse, and Nostradamus's face appeared in the air. With a thud, Liu Ran's body fell to the ground, his appearance grotesquely contorted, a gruesome sight of someone dying with their eyes wide open. The black-clad astrologer looked at his remains, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having avenged himself.