"Great! If we have extra help, that'll save us a lot of effort."
Doraemon had actually considered leaving behind some helper robots, but he ultimately abandoned the idea, knowing how distrusting people in this world were toward machines.
After all, there was no way he could stay here forever. Otherwise, his mom and dad, Dorami, Sewashi, and Nobita would all start to worry.
Especially Nobita... Hopefully, he wasn't getting bullied by Gian again.
Ugh... just thinking about it made Doraemon's head ache. If he had known this would happen, he would've asked Dorami to keep an eye on Nobita beforehand.
"Anyway, I'll leave food distribution in your hands too. That won't be a problem, right?"
"Of course not," Roy nodded. "Actually, I do have a personal favor to ask of you."
"A personal favor?"
"Yes. My kin are waiting outside. I told them you were an ancient Iron Man discovered by our former clan chief," Roy said. "So I'm hoping you'll go along with the lie."
"Ah, I see." Doraemon nodded, setting thoughts of Nobita aside for the moment. "Don't worry, I'll play along."
"Much appreciated."
Roy bowed deeply.
He then stood up, opened the door, and gave a hand signal to the armed group outside—armed with flamethrowers, venom-needle guns, mining lasers, bone blades, and all manner of weaponry. Only after seeing the signal did the heavily armed genestealer hybrids begin to lower their guard.
"Hello everyone, I'm Doraemon!"
The blue, round-bellied robot cat stepped out from behind Roy, smiling and giving the group a small wave.
"This is the loyalist Iron Man our late chief once spoke of," Roy declared, staff in hand, standing beside Doraemon. "Though it's a robot, it never betrayed humanity or the Emperor. Before he passed, the chief told me this Iron Man carries precious legacy technology from the Dark Age of Technology, capable of solving our current crisis with ease!"
"That's right!" Doraemon nodded enthusiastically, even though he had no clue who the Emperor was or what the Dark Age of Technology entailed. "That's exactly it!"
"Well, if it was the chief's will..." The gathered hybrids glanced at the staff in Roy's hand, then chose to comply. "So, what's your plan to solve our current situation?"
"Don't worry, I've already prepared a method to rapidly produce food and medicine." Doraemon patted his chest confidently. "When it comes to this kind of stuff, I'm as reliable as Mount Fuji!"
(Well, actually, the expression was supposed to be Mount Tai, but close enough.)
Speaking of medicine—he wondered how the girl who had been helping him distribute it was doing. She hadn't come back to pick up more, and he was starting to feel a little concerned.
Well, he'd find a way to check on her later.
Right now, solving the larger community's food and health crisis took priority.
"But to grow enough food, I'll need a large, empty space."
"Empty space?" One of the acolytes frowned, then looked to Roy. "We haven't fully secured the mid-hive levels, but the underhive might work."
"The underhive's where we first met," Roy explained. "All the industrial waste from the hive city ends up there. Aside from a few mutants and scavenger gangs, most of the inhabitants have already been... integrated."
"Alright then, let's go to the underhive," Doraemon said without hesitation.
To most hive dwellers, the underhive was nothing short of a living hell—home to those deemed unworthy of the Emperor's grace, the lowest on the totem pole of shame. But to Doraemon, it was just another place.
Even if, admittedly, it was a bit filthy.
"Honestly, people shouldn't just throw trash around like that…"
Flanked—more like cautiously escorted—by the genestealers, Doraemon made his way to the underhive. Even if they'd decided to trust him, they still remained vigilant around any Iron Man.
After surveying the surroundings, Doraemon selected a suitable spot and laid down his Rice Field Carpet, then pulled out his Big Light.
With a flash, the small patch instantly expanded into a full rice paddy right before everyone's eyes.
"And now, this!" Doraemon continued, pulling out what looked like a few ordinary faucet handles from his pocket. He stuck them onto the remnants of nearby structures and turned them on—immediately, crystal-clear water began flowing from them.
One of the acolytes rubbed his eyes, stunned.
Where was this water even coming from?
The genestealers exchanged bewildered looks, their expressions betraying sheer disbelief. This was far beyond their understanding.
Due to environmental conditions, the Mini-Sun and Rain Cloud Maker wouldn't work well down here, so Doraemon chose a simpler solution:
"The Seed Maker!"
With his stubby hands, Doraemon reached into his small pouch and pulled out a massive device that shouldn't have fit inside.
"With this, I can create custom seeds!" he explained as he got to work operating the machine. "Nutrient-rich, shade-tolerant, air-purifying, great taste... there! Done!"
Soon, several types of new seeds were created.
Doraemon handed them out to the others. "Plant these, and you'll soon have tasty food to eat!"
"In that case, let's have the first- and second-generation hybrids handle the planting," Roy said eagerly, before anyone else could react. "The field's massive—definitely needs guarding too. We might as well call everyone down here."
The acolyte gave Doraemon a skeptical glance.
Could these seeds and that rice field really be as miraculous as they appeared?
And more importantly... were they safe?
After all, their cult was currently at war with chaos-worshiping heretics. And this Iron Man's technology was suspiciously advanced—almost too good to be true.
Chief...
Well, no point overthinking it now. If this turned out to be real, then this Iron Man could become invaluable to the cult.
He gave a slight nod. "Alright, we'll follow your lead. But Roy, if you're serious about inheriting the position of High Priest, then you shouldn't be waiting on others' opinions. Make the decisions yourself."