To the Imperfect World, I Offer Doraemon

"Great, with extra help, we can save a lot of effort!" Doraemon said enthusiastically.

In truth, he had considered leaving behind some robots to help manage the work, but recalling the pervasive fear and rejection of machines in this world, he dismissed the idea.

After all, he couldn't stay here forever. His parents, Doraemi, Sewashi, and Nobita would definitely worry about him if he didn't return soon.

Especially Nobita—he couldn't bear the thought of Nobita crying out for him after being bullied by Gian again.

"Ugh... so frustrating," Doraemon muttered, feeling a headache just thinking about it. If only he'd asked Doraemi to watch over Nobita in advance.

"By the way, I'll also need your help to distribute the food to everyone. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Roy said with a nod. "Actually, I have another personal favor to ask you."

"A personal favor?"

"Yes. My kin are currently outside, and I've told them you're an ancient Iron Man found by our late patriarch. I'd appreciate it if you could help us maintain this story."

"Got it," Doraemon said with a firm nod, temporarily shelving thoughts of Nobita. "I'll do my best to cooperate!"

"Thank you. Truly."

Roy bowed deeply before standing and opening the door. Outside, a group of his kin stood fully armed, wielding flame throwers, poison dart guns, mining lasers, and bone blades. Seeing Roy's signal, they cautiously lowered their weapons.

"Hello, everyone! I'm Doraemon!" The blue, round robot waved cheerfully at the crowd.

"This is the loyal Iron Man our patriarch spoke of before his death," Roy declared solemnly, holding up his staff adorned with the emblem of their four-armed God-Emperor. "Although an Iron Man, it has never betrayed humanity or the Emperor. The patriarch personally entrusted me with its legacy, declaring that it carries ancient technologies capable of solving our current crises!"

"That's right!" Doraemon chimed in, eager to confirm. Though he had no idea who or what the Emperor was, he nodded vigorously. "Exactly as he said!"

"Well... if it's the patriarch's will..." The crowd exchanged glances, eyes flickering to the staff in Roy's hands. After a moment of hesitation, they nodded in unison. "Then what solutions do you offer for our problems?"

"Don't worry," Doraemon said confidently, patting his chest. "I've already prepared a way to produce food and medicine quickly. Trust me—this is my area of expertise!"

His confidence was met with skeptical looks. Even Roy's kin, despite their trust in him, exchanged uneasy glances. Doraemon's abilities seemed too good to be true, and the bizarre technology he wielded made them nervous.

"We'll need a large, open space to produce enough food for everyone," Doraemon explained.

"An open space?" The cleric, who had been silent until now, furrowed his brow in thought before turning to Roy. "The lower hive is still contested, but the underhive might work."

"The underhive," Roy clarified, "is where we first met. It's a dumping ground for industrial waste. Apart from some mutants and scavenger gangs, most of the area is already under our control."

"Alright, let's head to the underhive, then," Doraemon declared without hesitation. For most people, the underhive was synonymous with hell—a forsaken land inhabited by outcasts who had been abandoned by the Emperor's light. But to Doraemon, it was just another location, albeit one with terrible living conditions.

When they arrived, Doraemon surveyed the area and quickly selected a suitable spot. He laid down a Rice Field Carpet, then pulled out the Size Expansion Lamp from his pocket. Under its beam, the carpet expanded rapidly, transforming into a lush rice field that stretched across the barren ground.

"And now, this!" Doraemon exclaimed, producing several Water Faucets and attaching them to nearby debris. With a twist of the knobs, clear water began to flow, sparkling as it pooled into the rice field.

The cleric blinked in disbelief. "Where... where is that water coming from?"

The other Gene Stealers were equally stunned, whispering among themselves as they stared at the faucets. Water was a precious commodity in the hive, and the sight of it flowing freely was nothing short of miraculous.

Doraemon continued without pause, pulling out yet another device. "This is the Seed Generator!"

With practiced ease, he fed data into the machine. "Nutrient-rich, shade-tolerant, soil-purifying, and delicious… Done!"

Moments later, several packets of seeds emerged from the machine. Doraemon handed them out with a smile. "Plant these, and soon you'll have all the food you need!"

Roy seized the opportunity. "Let's assign the planting and guarding of the field to the first- and second-generation kin," he suggested. "The field is large and needs protection."

The cleric glanced warily at Doraemon. While he didn't voice his concerns, it was clear he was still uneasy about the strange robot's methods.

"Very well," the cleric finally said, nodding. "But Roy, if you wish to take on the mantle of the patriarch, you must learn to make decisions without always consulting others."