Cameras lined the corridor outside the hearing room.People weren't there to hear answers.They had come to see who would fall.
"Is this a city—or a dangerous experiment?"
The chairman's gavel cut through the air.
"CEO Kang Doyoon,""Your so-called Truck City is shaking the existing order.""Housing, energy, income—everything is privately designed."
The lawmaker didn't bother to hide his hostility.
"So I ask again—is this a city, or a dangerous experiment?"
Doyoon inhaled quietly before answering.
"Assemblyman,""if the housing system we've had so far was truly normal—"
His eyes slowly swept across the chamber.
"why have so many people been pushed out of their homes?"
"Is basic income just buying votes?"
Another lawmaker grabbed the microphone.
"950,000 won per resident, every month.""This isn't welfare—it's bribery."
"Are you buying votes?"The microphone tightened in his grip.
The air in the chamber froze.
Doyoon nodded.
"Yes."
A wave of murmurs erupted.
"So you admit it—you're handing out money,"the lawmaker sneered."In the end, you're buying votes."
Doyoon paused, then replied calmly.
"No."
"There's no reason to buy votes.And no need to."
He lifted his head and met their eyes directly.
"But—"
A brief silence.
"We do have the right to vote you."
The chamber went rigid.
Cameras rushed to zoom in on Doyoon.
One lawmaker opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Doyoon took one step forward.
"The residents of this city don't vote out of pity.""They exercise their rights toward those who protected their lives."
He finished quietly.
"I am not a politician.""So I don't make promises.""I simply made sure people didn't collapse."
"What comes after that—is their choice."
"This is a story from a basement room in Songpa."
Doyoon didn't pull out documents.He told a story.
"A basement room in Songpa, a few years ago.""Rent. Electricity. Gas.""The amounts weren't large."
"But the bank account was empty."
The chamber fell silent.
"There were three people in that home.""A mother, and two daughters."
"What they left behind wasn't a suicide note—"
He paused.
"It was a stack of unpaid utility bills."
The sound of camera shutters stopped.
"They didn't die because they were lazy.""They didn't die because they refused to work.""They didn't gamble. They didn't live extravagantly. They didn't cheat the world."
Doyoon's voice dropped.
"They were simply alonein front of rent and utility bills."
He raised his head.
"At that moment, the state wasn't there.""The market wasn't there.""All that existed—were the bills."
"We said we would never recreate that scene."
A lawmaker cut in sharply.
"That's a tragic exception!"
Doyoon shot back immediately.
"No.""It wasn't an exception.""It was a warning."
Firmly, he continued.
"We never said we would destroy the existing order.""We only said we would help those pushed out of it."
"A home is not a commodity."
Doyoon spoke slowly.
"A home is not a filter that sorts people.""A home is where people live."
"So let me say this clearly."
He pressed each word down.
"A home is not a commodity."
The chamber fell into complete silence.
"People become most dangerous when they're pushed out."
"When they miss rent.""When they can't pay loan interest.""When they tell their child, 'Not this month.'"
"That's when people collapse."
"We simply placed a single handrail at the edge of that cliff."
A scoff came from the lawmakers' seats.
"Sounds idealistic."
Doyoon answered without hesitation.
"No.""It's reality."
Numbers Speak
The screen lit up.
Delinquency rates before move-in
Six months after move-in
Bankruptcy, family collapse, homelessness risk
The graphs fell sharply.
"Basic income didn't take away the will to work.""It gave people time to endure."
"Then what about the real estate market?"
The sharpest question yet.
"Your project is shaking housing prices.""What about existing landlords? The existing market?"
This time, Doyoon answered immediately.
"We do not take responsibility."
The chamber exploded.
"Because—"he continued, slowly but clearly,
"a home is not a commodity."
"It's a place to live.""Not a product designed to be sold."
"So you're saying it's okay to destroy order?!"
A lawmaker shouted.
Doyoon shook his head.
"No."
Then corrected himself.
"We simply help those pushed out of that order.""And the failure to protect it—"
"Was not ours."
Resident Testimony ①
The chairman intervened quickly.
"Citizen witness, please speak."
A middle-aged woman stepped forward.
"I raised two children while paying 1.8 million won a monthjust in interest on a jeonse loan."
"Half my husband's salary disappeared into interest."
She spoke with a face that couldn't quite smile or cry.
"Now, in Truck Housing,I don't pay electricity, water, or maintenance."
"When I saw the 950,000 won deposited this month—"
She paused.
"For the first time, I could breathe."
Resident Testimony ②
A young man followed.
"My business failed. I slept in my car.""In winter, I kept the engine running until the police woke me."
"Now I work at a sewing factory.""I earn a salary. And I receive basic income."
He said simply:
"In this city,I write plans for the future for the first time."
Resident Testimony ③
An elderly man rose slowly.
"I worked my whole life,but had nowhere to go in old age."
"Here, housing isn't conditional."
"If you're human, that's enough."
The chamber was silent.
The hearing ended.
No conclusion was reached.
But a line had been drawn.
That night, a single headline spread through the media:
"Internal document leaked: Truck City's 81,500-household recruitment plan."
Some were furious.Some began to wait.
The question was only this:
Will you protect houses—or will you protect people?