After borrowing the money from Doraemon, Nobita didn't waste any time.
That afternoon, he went out alone.
The stationery shop wasn't far from his house small, quiet, and filled with the familiar smell of paper and ink. He stood there longer than necessary, carefully comparing prices, resisting the urge to buy anything unnecessary.
In the end, he chose only what he needed.
Draft paper, sketch pens of different thicknesses, a ruler and eraser.
Nothing fancy.
When he returned home, the house was quiet.
He went straight to his room, but Doraemon wasn't there. Nobita paused for a moment, then simply shrugged. Doraemon probably went back to the future or was busy with something else.
It didn't matter.
He cleared his desk, pushing aside books and old manga volumes. One by one, he took out the tools he had bought and arranged them neatly, placing each item carefully, as if doing so would help organize his thoughts as well.
When everything was ready, Nobita took a deep breath and sat down on the stool in front of the desk.
The sketch pen felt cool in his hand.
But his mind wasn't ready yet.
Creating a manga was not a simple task. Choosing what to draw mattered just as much as how to draw it. Without careful thought, anything he put on paper would end up hollow and meaningless.
So he didn't rush.
He leaned back slightly, staring at the blank draft paper while ideas surfaced and faded. Different stories crossed his mind, only to be rejected one after another.
Time passed quietly.
Half an hour later, his eyes sharpened.
He picked up the pen and slowly wrote two words at the top of the page:
Demon Slayer
In his previous world, Demon Slayer had been a dark horse among countless new anime and manga. When it first appeared, it shocked the industry.
For a time, its influence had even surpassed One Piece, a series that had dominated the charts for years.
Of course, many people said that its popularity came from its high-quality animationbbut Nobita knew that wasn't the whole truth. Not everyone shared the same tastes, and he didn't need to please everyone anyway.
As a third-rate manga creator in his past life, he understood exactly how popular Demon Slayer had been.
From his current situation, as long as he could recreate this work even imperfectly, it would undoubtedly cause a stir once submitted to a publishing house.
The story's setting, characters, the emotions buried beneath tragedy and resolve.
All of it had the potential to ignite something within readers.
As night slowly fell, the city lights flickered on one by one.
Families gathered for dinner, televisions played variety shows. Conversations drifted through open windows.
And in a quiet room, at a desk by the window, beneath the glow of a desk lamp, a teenage boy began to draw.
This was his first work after coming to this world.
Nobita was filled with confidence in Demon Slayer. His enthusiasm burned bright as he prepared to bring this phenomenal story to life as quickly as possible.
However—
Ideas were beautiful.
Reality was not.
The moment Nobita truly picked up the sketch pen and began drawing, he realized how naive his expectations had been.
At first, he thought that with his sharp memory and complete recollection of the original work, recreating it would be easy. After all, the plot, the dialogue, even specific scenes appeared vividly in his mind.
But remembering something and reproducing it perfectly… were two completely different things.
With only the skills of a third-rate manga creator from his previous life, keeping up was difficult. His panel composition lacked refinement. His storyboards weren't smooth enough.
The gap was obvious.
Though this outcome was expected, it still reflected a harsh truth—
His manga skills were far from mature.
Naturally, achieving the same effect as the original work was nearly impossible.
"It seems… this won't be easy after all."
Nobita looked down at the rough lines on the paper, uneven pencil strokes, hesitant and incomplete.
He let out a quiet sigh.
Still…
He didn't put the pen down.
Despite the challenges, Nobita refused to give up. Demon Slayer was a phenomenal work, and he was determined to do it justice. He resolved to practice tirelessly, refining his skills until he could perfectly capture the essence of the original.
"Greatness doesn't come easy," he thought, his frustration giving way to renewed resolve.
With that, he picked up his pencil again, ready to face the uphill climb toward his goal. This was only the beginning of his journey as a comic creator, and he was determined to see it through.
Success was unlikely to come quickly.
But this time—
He had all the time in the world.