"System, you really can't fix this for me?"
If possible, Shirou Muramasa wanted to ask the one burning question in his mind: What's my relationship with the mysterious being who created this so-called 'Two-Dimensional Heroic Spirit System'?Could one of his ancestors have been a time traveler too?
Even for the main character of a prime-time TV drama, this was pushing it.
And what was the concept of Doraemon, anyway? He could bend time at will, reverse cause and effect, rewrite logic itself, and even create entire worlds. It was absurd—so absurd that even the most overpowered game characters looked modest in comparison.
"…"
After a long silence, the system finally spoke in Shirou's head:
"Since the host has randomly summoned an especially rare two-dimensional Heroic Spirit, the need for this system's functions has greatly decreased. The host may choose to terminate the binding with the system."
"Wait—unbinding? That doesn't sound right."
Shirou scratched his head. Unbinding the system now felt like kicking a loyal donkey after it carried all your loads.
"Alternatively," the system continued, "the host may choose to upgrade. To upgrade, you must complete at least one main mission and accumulate 1,000 system points."
"What's the benefit of upgrading?"
"More functions will be unlocked."
"…Such as?"
"For example, the ability to travel between worlds."
"Hmm…" Shirou's mind suddenly lit up. "Could I use the If Phone Booth to jump to a parallel world where I won the Fourth Holy Grail War?"
This was basically a cheat code. No matter what mission the system gave, the If Phone Booth could break it.
"…"
"Yes," the system admitted, "but we do not recommend it."
"Why? Are there consequences?"
"No."
"…Then why not?"
"For your own sake. You are human. After summoning Doraemon, it becomes very easy to shed that humanity—either degenerating into a demon, or ascending to godhood. Either way, you won't be human anymore. This process is difficult to reverse. It's recommended you experience more, think more, and decide later."
"…"
Shirou nodded slightly. Doraemon wasn't just powerful—he operated outside the very framework of this world. Any random gadget from him could upend reality itself.
Could he reshape the Type-Moon world with Doraemon's help? Sure. But… he didn't want to. Whether it was because of his ideal to be a "hero of justice," or simply to protect a cherished childhood memory, Shirou had no interest in abusing that power.
After all, he was still human.
And without the system, could he even survive until tomorrow? Probably not. Better to treat it with caution. Besides, Nobita's endless string of bad endings from misusing Doraemon's gadgets was enough of a warning.
Finally, after a bit more questioning, Shirou called out the words he had shouted countless times in his childhood:"Doraemon! Help me!"
"I see… This world really is dangerous," Doraemon said, listening to Shirou's explanation. The blue robot cat sat on the ground, his face full of concern, like a worried mother hen.
The Holy Grail War? Magicians? None of it surprised him. In his world, future scientists casually built gadgets capable of rewriting reality, time travel was as easy as breathing, and a kid's summer homework might involve creating an entire planet.
For Doraemon, the real problem wasn't the danger—it was how easy it would be to solve. He had a four-dimensional pocket full of gadgets that could "solve" things… or just flip the table entirely.
"Ahem," Shirou coughed, pulling Doraemon's attention back. "I'm still too young to deal with unknown dangers. Don't you have a Time Wrap in your pocket?"
Doraemon studied him for a moment, then nodded. "I understand, Shirou."
He reached into his round belly pocket and rummaged around for a while before producing a red-and-blue square cloth, a simple clock emblem printed in the center.
"Time Wrap!"
"This gadget can change the time state of any object," Doraemon explained. "Red side forward shows its future state. Blue side forward shows its past state. It works on living beings, too."
"That's it," Shirou said, eyes shining. This was one of his most coveted childhood gadgets. He remembered an episode where Nobita was stranded on a deserted island for ten years, only for Doraemon to bring him back in time and restore his original appearance with the Time Wrap.
As a kid, it was a touching story. As an adult… it was terrifying. But no need to dwell on that now.
"How many years ahead do you want to go?" Doraemon asked.
"Twelve years. Make me look like I'm eighteen."
At only six years old now, Shirou still carried the mindset from his previous life—that eighteen was the peak of human vitality.
"No problem."
Doraemon covered Shirou with the cloth. Moments later, a taller figure emerged from beneath it.
With a flourish, Doraemon whipped the cloth away to reveal a young man about 1.7 meters tall, white-haired, sharp-eyed, with an easy, slightly roguish smile.
Pulling a mirror from his pocket, Doraemon grinned. "You've changed a lot, Shirou."
"Yeah…" Shirou stared at his reflection. Wasn't this basically Red Archer? Sure, there were differences—his aura felt calmer, more indifferent—but the resemblance was uncanny.
Is this my future self?Or… just the future self who happened to summon Doraemon?