Four a.m.
The city was still asleep,but Truck City was already awake.
At the edge of the industrial complex,on land once erased from the map,headlights gathered one by one.
Engine rumble.Reverse alarms.The sound of metal locking into place.
The trucks were arriving.
Kim Young-ah was already there.
Before the headlights came on,she was the one who had stepped into the land's shadow first.
A clipboard in her hand.An earpiece in her ear.
Her voice wasn't loud,but it never broke.
"Hwacheon tomatoes, Line A.""Hoengseong beef—refrigeration connection first.""Makgeolli stays sealed until power is stable."
The trucks took their places,one by one, following her words.
The tomato truck from Hwacheonhad red letters painted on its side:
"Straight from the Field."
When the Hoengseong beef truck opened its refrigerated door,a sigh came out before the meat did.
"Getting here felt less suffocatingthan driving the highway."
The Pocheon makgeolli truckpulled out tasting cups the moment it arrived,then froze at Young-ah's hand signal.
"Not yet."
"People come first."
From the Gangneung Chodang tofu truck,warm steam was still leaking out.
Donghae pollock roe.Yeoju sweet potatoes.Icheon rice.Jeongseon glutinous corn.Nonsan strawberries.Seongju melons.Beolgyo cockles.
The land of the entire countrywas arriving on wheels.
"How do we set the lines?"someone asked.
Doyoon answered without speaking,pointing at the ground.
The routes were already drawn.
On top of them,Kim Young-ah added one more line.
Short. Bold.
"Refrigeration waiting zone.""Kids here.""Don't stop here—keep moving."
Places where crowds would form.Places where congestion would happen.Where to stop,and where to let things flow.
They began to appear clearly.
"Wide here.""Leave this empty.""Just pass through here."
The explanations were brief.The instructions precise.
No one asked "why."
Because everything was already moving.
Haeyoon checked the truck heights one by one.
Three pyeong. Six pyeong.All within regulation.
Wind barriers.Power connections.Emergency passages.
"This won't be dismantled,"he said.
"Even when today ends,this structure stays."
Young-ah nodded.
"That way,it hurts less next time."
Eight a.m.
The first person walked in.
One person.Then a family.Then a line.
Young-ah didn't look at the cash registers.
She watched people's hands instead.
The speed at which plastic bags stretched.The sound of boxes touching the ground.
"Tomatoes—move them forward a bit.""Makgeolli, you can open now."
People didn't call it an "expo."
"I came to shop.""I came to look around.""I came to eat."
Kids ran with corn in their hands.Elders stopped in front of the makgeolli.
On one side,Young-ah's phone rang.
"Refrigeration temperature?""Maintained.""No, nothing's being discarded today."
After hanging up,she took a brief breath.
No one noticed.
The young peopledidn't photograph the trucks.
They photographed people.
"Does this happen every year?"someone asked.
The Incheon City TF official nodded.
"As long as you have a truck."
That sentencewas repeated many times.
After noon,
the scene in front of Ra-on's food truckwas, quite literally, a battlefield.
"More broth?""Next batch coming!""Please step back just a bit—"
Ra-on was smiling.
She was exhausted,but her face was alive.
"This is the businessI always wanted to do,"she said in front of the fire.
"Looking at people's faces."
From a distance,Young-ah checked the routes again—
making sure people didn't standtoo long near the flames.
Hajin walked through the center of the grounds.
Work clothes.Farmers' hats.Children's outfits.
He watched bodies.
Where they felt uncomfortable.Where fabric folded.
"This one—we can try it on the next truck."
Someone's clothingwas turning into his sketches.
As the sun began to tilt,Doyoon stood a little apartand looked at everything.
Trucks.People.Fire.Sound.
And between them,Kim Young-ah kept walking.
Without stopping.Without drawing attention.
Nothing collapsed.Nothing was dismantled.
Then Song Jaemin stood beside him.
"It's louder than an operating room."
Doyoon smiled.
"But here—everything's alive."
Jaemin nodded slowly.
"Emergency careis always here."
When the sun fully setand only the lights remained,
Kim Young-ah closedthe door of the last refrigerated truck.
Only thendid the city take a single breath.
Someone said,
"Next year,we'll add one more."
"Our county could use this structure too."
"This is…a city."
That's what it was called.
Not an event.Not a festival.
A city.
That night,the last truckdid not turn off its lights.
The city didn't close.
It was simplywaitingfor its next move.