The Haunting Chronicles of the Nobi Household

After the riotously absurd plotline of the Doghouse Edition of The Grudge had come to an end, the severely handicapped Lord God seemed to quiet down for a while.

—Of course, with the collapse of the Lord God's Dimension, all reward systems and item exchange services naturally vanished as well.

Thus, whether it was Haruhi Suzumiya's SOS Brigade, Shinnosuke Nohara's Kasukabe Defense Force, or Doraemon's Youth Adventure Team, though they briefly rejoiced in celebration, they eventually had no choice but to return to their mundane lives, having gained little of tangible value beyond the thrill of the adventure itself.

Before parting ways, the alien girl Yuki Nagato took the spherical Lord God core with her, intending to further her research using its formidable computational capacity.

Meanwhile, Wang Qiu focused his attention on investigating the enigma that was Doraemon—and came to some rather unsettling conclusions.

First and foremost, although time appears to pass normally in Doraemon's world, no genuine change ever seems to occur. The entire universe operates like a Möbius strip—Nobita Nobi has lived through countless summer and winter vacations, yet remains perpetually stuck in the fifth grade of elementary school!

(Originally, Nobita was a fourth grader when the manga began, and after more than three decades, he only progressed one grade.)

Strictly speaking, some superficial changes have occurred—laptops now appear in Nobita's room, his friends and parents use smartphones, and he and Doraemon even have personal websites—but these are merely updates to the setting, not actual progress.

Second, Doraemon's pocket contains numerous gadgets that can manipulate causality itself—such as the Miniature Diet, the Dictator Switch, and the If Phone Booth. Yet in Nobita's hands, these seemingly world-conquering tools result in nothing more than farcical disasters. It's a chilling notion. After personally experimenting with the Miniature Diet, Wang Qiu developed a bone-chilling hypothesis: these gadgets may not alter reality at all, but merely implant convincing false memories into their users—serving as cautionary tools to teach the dangers of unchecked power.

Later, after offering generous tributes of various cakes and dried fish, Wang Qiu finally managed to borrow several gadgets from Doraemon. But to his disappointment, none of them functioned properly in his own world. Perhaps the fundamental rules of reality differ between the two universes.

Similarly, the portal connecting Doraemon's world to Wang Qiu's seemed to be one-way. On a whim, Nobita once tried to visit Wang Qiu's home through the familiar pocket portal, only to be blocked by an invisible barrier, unable to pass through.

This discovery left Wang Qiu both disheartened and faintly relieved. After all, the walking catastrophe that is Nobita—no better than the harbinger of doom known as Detective Conan—tends to attract trouble wherever he goes. If Doraemon's next feature film were titled Nobita and the Battle of the Urban Management Bureau, Wang Qiu might genuinely contemplate hanging himself afterward...

In truth, just witnessing the day-to-day life of Nobita and Doraemon was terrifying enough for Wang Qiu.

...

No matter what, Doraemon is undeniably an exceptional piece of engineering—there's no doubt about that. Even someone as hopeless as Nobita could, with the proper use of this robot's full potential, craft a truly extraordinary future.

But therein lies the problem: Doraemon's size, power, and weight are enough to turn the Nobi family's everyday life into a waking nightmare.

—Doraemon stands at 129.3 centimeters, weighs 129.3 kilograms, boasts a power output of 129.3 horsepower, and can reach a top speed of 129.3 km/h.

What's more, perhaps due to the need to house his advanced artificial intelligence, his enormous head measures a staggering 80 centimeters in diameter!

That such a colossal cranium could even emerge from Nobita's desk drawer defies logic.

—As is well known, Nobita's desk connects to a time machine, and Doraemon travels from the 22nd century via that drawer. Yet the typical drawer in a student's desk barely measures 60 to 70 centimeters in either direction. If Nobita truly used a standard desk, Doraemon's head would be permanently lodged in the drawer, unable to get through.

—Imagine the tragedy: after journeying across centuries, only to be wedged in place mere inches from his destination… How tragic!

Fortunately, Nobita's desk, though modest in appearance, is no ordinary schoolchild's furniture—it's a lavish executive desk like those used by corporate board members, with a primary drawer a full meter wide and 90 centimeters deep. Sigh… for a mere elementary student to use such an opulent piece of furniture reveals just how high his parents' expectations must be.

And yet, instead of using that grand desk to diligently study, their beloved son summoned forth a robot from the future, one that allowed him to enjoy an effortless life and eventually become a multiverse-famous superstar. Life, it seems, is truly unpredictable.

Nevertheless, though the luxurious desk made it possible for Doraemon to travel safely back and forth, once this robot of immense proportions moved into the Nobi household, the true troubles began.

Take, for instance, the simple act of passing each other in the hallway. Japanese homes typically have hallways only 90 centimeters wide, leaving Doraemon—whose head measures 80 centimeters across—barely 10 centimeters of clearance. If one were to meet him head-on, someone would inevitably have to backtrack.

The Nobi family had no choice but to embark on massive renovations, widening their hallways and staircases to a meter and a half, wasting precious living space.

Even worse, stairs posed an insurmountable challenge. With legs only 20 centimeters long, Doraemon couldn't possibly scale the steep, narrow stairs of a typical Japanese home. And with his wide, flat feet—measuring nearly 40 centimeters across—steps had to be redesigned entirely. But constructing such an expansive staircase in a compact house would consume all available space. Frankly, it would've been easier to install a submarine-style ladder.

—Eventually, the solution was to equip Doraemon's feet with hover engines, allowing him to float ghostlike through the house.

Still, just having an oversized head and short legs already brought enough problems—but worse was yet to come. Doraemon's body mass is 129.3 kilograms, and his strength matches 129.3 horsepower. Living with such a powerhouse is perilous.

Despite his robotic form, Doraemon retains feline instincts and often climbs rooftops to court female cats. But could the fragile eaves of a Japanese house withstand such mass? We're talking about something heavier than two Wang Qius or three Nobitas—a veritable sumo wrestler in robot form!

—Thus, the Nobi family was forced to reinforce their roof and beams, using material transmutation beams to turn wood into high-strength alloy steel.

But Doraemon's strength was even more fearsome than his weight. With 129.3 horsepower, he could easily overpower twenty average adults. Although we often see Nobita crash into him for a hug, in reality, doing so would be like running full speed into a living tank—it would send anyone flying.

And sometimes, Nobita even wrestles with Doraemon over the last dorayaki… If Wang Qiu were to engage in such a tussle, he'd suffer total skeletal fractures and ruptured organs in an instant. That seemingly mundane daily life is overshadowed by a constant threat of death—thank goodness Nobita is absurdly durable, or he'd have died long ago.

Worse still is the existence of Gian—the local bully, who once even knocked Doraemon unconscious. If Doraemon can defeat twenty men alone, Gian must be on par with a legendary street brawler, capable of slicing through Hong Kong's Causeway Bay with a watermelon knife. No wonder he confidently declared, "What's mine is mine, and what's yours is also mine."

Yet even in the face of such overwhelming might, Nobita often finds the courage to resist him—and occasionally even defeats him. It's perhaps this indomitable tenacity that allows Nobita to coexist with a terrifying being like Doraemon at all.

And then there's the most terrifying aspect of all: when confronted by a mouse, Doraemon reaches his top speed of 129.3 km/h in panic. The problem is, such encounters typically happen indoors. Just imagine—a 129.3-kilogram robot crashing through a cramped house at bullet-train speed… The scene is nothing short of apocalyptic.

Thankfully, no matter how much damage Doraemon causes during his frenzied episodes, everything can be restored to pristine condition with a wave of the Restoration Beam.

As for the chaos and destruction wrought by Doraemon's endless gadgets… Words truly fail to capture the full extent.

At times like these, Wang Qiu couldn't help but shed a tear for Mr. and Mrs. Nobi—living in such a terrifying household while maintaining a semblance of order must be nothing short of heroic.

—So long as Doraemon is there, Nobita can enjoy a happy life without effort. But to endure living with such a formidable companion demands an extraordinary level of resilience. Truly, even the most advanced technologies of the 22nd century are far from flawless.

Meanwhile, as Wang Qiu observed the Nobi household with a mixture of awe, horror, and admiration, the alien operative Yuki Nagato finally achieved a preliminary breakthrough in her analysis of the Lord God's core sphere.