Numbers filled the conference room screen.
〈Truck Specialty Market – Phase 1 Results〉
Participating local governments:58 out of 243 nationwide
Trucks ordered:130 units (all new)
Configuration:
3-pyeong trucks:78 units × 60 million KRW
6-pyeong trucks:52 units × 65 million KRW
Total production value:81.9 billion KRW
For a moment,
the room stirred.
Someone inhaled sharply.Someone swallowed a smile.
"Unit confirmed?""Yes. Eighty-one point nine billion."
The operations director leaned back in his chair.
For the first time,
his expression wasn't reading a report—
but reading a result.
"Truck City's direct profit margin,
based on design, manufacturing, and infrastructure linkage,
is approximately 18 percent."
Another number appearedat the bottom of the screen.
Phase 1 operating profit: approx. 14.7 billion KRWAvailable capital after expenses: approx. 9.2 billion KRW
Quiet calculations began across the room.
"At this level…""If we carry this into next quarter…""Media response should be decent."
Breaking the brief silence,
Kim Young-ah raised her hand.
"I'll report on the food trucks as well."
The screen changed.
〈Food Truck Revenue Summary〉
Participating food trucks: 47Average daily sales: 3.8 million KRWOperating period: 7 days
Total sales: approx. 12.5 billion KRW
Net profit after ingredients, labor, and operating costs:approx. 4.1 billion KRW
This time,
the way people looked at the numberswas more open.
"One notable point,"Young-ah said calmly,
"is the waste rate."
"Typical events average12 to 15 percent."
"This time, it was 3.2 percent."
"…So almost nothing was thrown away."
"Yes."
"Because of market flow designand supply control."
Some nodded.
Some closed their notebooks.
Everyone knew—
this wasn't luck.
It was structure.
The air in the roomclearly changed.
This wasn't event revenue.
It was a city ledger—
one that could keep turning.
Only then didKang Doyoon, seated at the far end,
speak.
"Give me your opinions."
A pause.
Then a careful voice.
"With this capital,we could considera second expansion phaseor even real estate linkage."
The words were polite,
but the eyeswere already reading the next numbers.
Doyoon shook his head.
"No."
Short.Clear.
"This moneygoes to medical trucks."
The room froze.
"All of it?""Yes."
Doyoon didn't look at the screen.
He looked at the people.
"The truck marketand the food trucksmade money."
"So now,
medicinedoesn't have to borrow."
Someone adjusted their chair.
Someone managed their expression.
Doyoon spoke once more.
"This isn't investment return."
"This is—"
He paused,
then added quietly,
"the cost of deathswe failed to prevent."
No one argued.
At the same time,
outside the conference room,
the world was already reacting.
Photos and numberswere circulating together on social media.
— 'Didn't think trucks could beat cities.'— 'This isn't just a market.'— 'The revenue structure is insane.'— 'Wait, they're building medical trucks? For real?'
Some called Truck Citya business model.
Others called ita policy experiment.
No one knew yet
where this moneywould flow next.
After the meeting,
Doyoon stopped by the design room.
On one wall,
drawings still without nameswere pinned.
A widened truck body.Reinforced power lines.Lighting that didn't fold.
And one note, written in red pen.
"Open people here."
Production hadn't started yet.
But the city
was alreadypreparing
for its next breath.