The meeting roomwas not large.
An annex of City Hall,once used as a waiting area for civil complaints.
The ceiling was low.One fluorescent light flickered.
But the table was long.
Long enoughto gather people.
Doyoon arrivedten minutes early.
He wasn't wearing a suit.
It was the jacket he wore on-site,and in its inner pockethis safety notebook was still there.
—Doyoon had fileda leave-of-absence request.
The reason was simple.
"Personal project."
The director looked up from the paper.
"When are you coming back?"
Doyoon thought for a moment.
"If I come back," he said,"this project will have failed."
The team leader didn't laugh.
Instead,he set his pen down.
"Then," he said,"come back successful."
Doyoon bowed his head.
As he walked out of the office,he knew—
from here on,there would be no protection,no salary.
—The door opened.
"You're early."
It was Park Haeyoon,carrying a tube of truck design blueprints.
He scanned the room onceand took a seat by the window.
"Looks like housingwill come up first," he said.
Doyoon nodded.
"It always does.People ask about where they'll sleepbefore they ask about the city."
"That's why we need it,"Doyoon said.
"The House Truck."
Without a word,Haeyoon laid the blueprints on the table.
A ten-square-meter module.
A structure already alignedwith City Hall's financial support criteria.
Long-term repayment, fixed interestfor low-income residents and young adults.
Not a rental—a home people could actually own.
—The next person to enterwas Hong Raon.
No apron this time.
Instead,she carried two cups of coffee.
"You should drink before the meeting."
She naturally placed onein front of Doyoon.
"Why does this place feel so stiff?"
"Because it's administration."
"Then," she smiled,"we should light a fire."
Her laughter loosenedthe air in the room.
—The door opened again.
"Sorry I'm late."
It was Yoo Hajin.
His coat still carriedthe scent of his studio.
As soon as he sat down,his eyes swept over everyone's clothes.
A habit.
"You're all wearing clothesthat don't really fit the city."
"An insultbefore the meeting even starts?"Raon laughed.
"No," Hajin replied."Because now we can change them."
—Last to enterwas the City Hall TF officer.
His name was Seo Hyunwoo.
A Seoul National University history graduate,a college contemporary of Chae Isol.
He had passed the civil service exambut had always been dissatisfiedwith "policies without the field."
"Today isn't about reporting,"Hyunwoo said.
"It's about checkingwhether we can fail together."
Doyoon smiled.
—Then,one more person entered.
Song Jaemin.
No helicopter.No white coat.
Just a worn bag.
"Can we finally talkabout medicine on the ground?"Jaemin asked.
Doyoon nodded.
"Now thatthe people are here."
—Doyoon stood up.
"Todayis not a day for decisions,"he said slowly.
"Todayis a day to create work."
The first slide appearedon the screen.
T-MART (Truck Market)Call for participants.
Medical trucks.House trucks.Food trucks.Fashion trucks.
And the first event—
A Truck Market Festivalcombined with a National Local Products Expo.
It wasn't just a festival.
Routes.Safety.Power.Sanitation.The flow of people.
The daythe city would movefor the first time.
"This is wherepeople come in,"Doyoon said.
"And this is wherejobs begin."
The room fell silent.
Someone nodded.Someone took a deep breath.
The citywas not yet complete.
But for the first time,it had taken a seat.
And now,it was readyto begin working.