The Negotiation Table with the Bus Company

"What? They're introducing village buses?"

Kim Hak-jin, CEO of Woosoo Bus, hurled the documents across the room. The stack of papers scattered across the desk in a flurry.

"This isn't a simple route adjustment. What in the world is Mayor Yeo Mu-jin trying to pull?"

The executives gathered in the conference room busied themselves avoiding each other's eyes. The mood had been ominous ever since they'd first laid eyes on the bus reform plan announced by the city council.

"Sir, is there really a chance this could actually be implemented?"

One executive ventured the question cautiously.

"A chance? Hah. Fine, let's see whether there's a chance or not."

Kim Hak-jin shot to his feet and began to pace. Breathing hard, he stopped at the office window.

"Introducing village buses? And rerouting every single line around the terminal on top of that?"

He gritted his teeth.

"That mayor's finally showing his hand—he means to squeeze our throats outright."

A brief silence fell over the conference room.

"Sir, if the city actually forces this reform through, how do we respond?"

Kim Hak-jin turned around slowly.

"Simple. The mayor apparently thinks he's clever, but does he really believe administration runs that easily?"

He pulled out a cigarette and clamped it between his lips.

"The bus business isn't just a public service. It's leverage. What do you suppose happens if we stop running?"

An executive answered, watching his face carefully.

"Inconvenience for the citizens would spike, and public opinion would boil over."

"Exactly."

Kim Hak-jin let out a short laugh and exhaled a plume of smoke.

"Start working the drivers' union. Get the narrative out there that the route reform hurts the drivers. Tell them to spread word that if this reform goes through, some drivers could lose their jobs."

"But wouldn't the village bus introduction actually increase demand for drivers?"

"Doesn't matter. What matters is creating anxiety. The problem isn't numbers—it's emotion."

Kim Hak-jin smirked.

"And we need a media play, too. Push out an article with keywords like 'hasty administration,' 'ignoring the experts,' 'destroying the existing system.' Some council members are on our side—get them raising their voices as well."

"And if the mayor's office anticipated all this and counters?"

Kim Hak-jin stubbed out his cigarette and waved a hand.

"This is a game. Whatever the mayor expects, what matters is whether he can actually handle it."

He returned to his seat and tapped the table with a finger.

"Changing the routes alone will cause massive disruption. Now add village buses on top? Shrinking our lines and running everything through the terminal? This is bound to become a war of attrition. Stall for time."

He swept the office with a cold gaze.

"And in the worst case, we could engineer a strike ourselves."

"Mr. Mayor, Woosoo Bus has started moving in earnest."

Chief of Staff Kang Seol-heon spoke with a tense expression.

"The union has already lodged complaints, and several media outlets are stoking unease. And... some city council members have begun opposing the reform plan, using the phrase 'the mayor's unilateral administration.'"

I skimmed through the documents and nodded.

"Just as expected. Woosoo Bus is on the move."

Division Chief Kim Jin-soo spoke up beside me.

"Mr. Mayor, if the union takes collective action—or worse, declares a strike—how will you respond?"

I tapped my fingers against the table.

"First, we secure public opinion. Decisively."

Every gaze in the conference room fixed on me.

"The union is pushing back out of anxiety. Fear that jobs might disappear, worry that the system might collapse. But we need to emphasize that this reform is designed to create more jobs and let citizens ride with greater ease than ever."

I turned to Kang Seol-heon and gave my instructions.

"Handle the media response immediately. We have to lead public ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠opinion first. We need to tell citizens directly how troubled the old system was, and exactly how the new reform will improve things."

Kim Jin-soo nodded.

"Then how about holding a public hearing? You'd speak with citizens face to face and help them understand the bus reform plan."

"Good idea. Start preparing right away."

I braced a hand on the desk and continued.

"And we need to send Woosoo Bus a message, too."

Kang Seol-heon raised an eyebrow.

What kind of message?

I answered with a quiet smile.

"We're not trying to ram this reform through. We're giving them a chance to choose."

Kim Jin-soo's eyes went wide.

"...Don't tell me you intend to negotiate with them directly?"

I leaned forward slowly.

"Negotiation is something you do when there's a possibility of a deal—and it works to your advantage when you control the table itself. We have to build a structure where the longer Woosoo Bus holds out, the worse their position gets."

I opened my laptop and typed out a brief memo.

Then I looked around the conference room and said,

"It's time we started moving in earnest."

We decided to hold the public hearing jointly with the city council.

In situations like this, giving the council a role was essential.

If the reform looked like Yeojin City's show alone, the council would start feeling sidelined—and the moment that happened, they'd be far likelier to move against us. For genuine cooperation, the council had to share in the credit as well.

Wasn't that what real win-win governance was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠supposed to look like?

When I arrived at the council chamber, I sensed the air had shifted, ever so subtly.

Even before the session began, small clusters of councilors were huddled in conversation. Reporters covering City Hall bustled about, throwing questions at anyone who looked informed.

The session opened.

"Mr. Mayor, controversy continues to swirl around the bus reform plan you recently announced."

One councilor seized the microphone and fired off a pointed question.

"The bus drivers' union is currently fearing mass layoffs, and some are questioning whether the reform plan has any real substance. How do you respond, Mr. Mayor?"

I picked up the microphone, unhurried.

"An excellent question. Allow me to start here."

The chamber went quiet. I turned my gaze slowly around the room.

"The claim of a 'mass layoff crisis' being floated in some quarters is simply not true. This reform plan is, in fact, structured to keep bus drivers' jobs secure—and to require even more personnel than before."

I drew a breath and pressed on.

"First, the addition of village buses will require hiring new drivers. Once we introduce small community buses alongside the existing large-bus fleet, the operating burden per route becomes far lighter, and working conditions for drivers can actually improve."

Several councilors flipped through their materials, checking my explanation.

"Furthermore, the adjustments to dispatch intervals and route efficiency mean that current drivers won't be laid off—working conditions will instead be improved so operations can run on a more systematic footing. What the union is resisting right now is uncertainty, not any genuine risk of unemployment."

I tapped the head of the microphone and added,

"In fact, I'd like to ask a question of my own. Is Woosoo Bus's current operating structure really beneficial to its drivers?"

The chamber fell silent for a beat. I drove straight on.

"Right now, drivers are behind the wheel more than ten hours a day, and many of them can't even take a proper break at the end of the line before turning around. And yet far from seeing raises, their workload only keeps intensifying. Does that sound like a good environment to any of you?"

Several councilors exchanged glances. I didn't stop there.

"Once this reform takes effect, drivers will have better working conditions. The village buses will add short-radius routes, and the adjusted dispatch intervals will lighten their load. In other words, my position is this: the reform plan is not a threat to the drivers—it's an opportunity."

I set down the microphone and faced the councilors again.

"Therefore, the layoff-crisis narrative the union has been pushing is false. The thing we should be most worried about right now is..."

I brought up the prepared materials on the screen.

"The opaque way Woosoo Bus's management runs the company."

A hush swept the chamber.

"Woosoo Bus currently receives 7 billion won in subsidies every year, yet there has been no improvement whatsoever in how it's run. Worse, the division of profits is unclear, and we have confirmed indications that the labor costs of certain executives have been set at grossly excessive levels."

Several councilors looked visibly startled.

"According to the materials we've secured, a portion of Woosoo Bus's operating costs has gone not to actual service but to the personal expenses of the management. It wasn't the drivers' welfare that came first—it was the operators' profits."

I swept the chamber once more with my gaze.

"I want to ask: is it truly in the interest of the citizens—or the drivers—to keep leaving bus operations in these hands?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment.

Then a councilor raised his hand.

"Mr. Mayor, if that's the case, how do you plan to proceed in your consultations with Woosoo Bus?"

I answered with an easy smile.

"It's simple. If they want to negotiate, we will demand they come to the table prepared to take responsibility. What we need right now is mutual cooperation—not one-sided concession."

After the session ended, Kim Jin-soo came up to me and asked in a low voice,

"Mr. Mayor, the council's reaction is better than I expected, isn't it?"

I smiled.

"Now let's watch how Woosoo Bus responds. They'll move soon enough."

Word came from Woosoo Bus.

"Mr. Mayor, Woosoo Bus CEO Kim Hak-jin has requested a meeting tomorrow afternoon."

I considered it for a moment, then nodded.

"Tell them I'll come myself."

Chief of Staff Kang Seol-heon's eyes went wide.

"You're going in person, Mr. Mayor?"

"That's the only way the pressure lands properly. This meeting is one I have to lead."

I closed my laptop with a faint smile.

Woosoo Bus reaching out first meant they'd realized it was time to move, too.

They'd seen the reform plan unveiled at the public hearing and the shifting tide of public opinion, and judged they could no longer sit on their hands.

Now it was time to play the cards I'd been holding, one by one.

The following afternoon, I headed to Kim Hak-jin's office.

From the outside, Woosoo Bus's headquarters looked reasonably prosperous, but the moment I stepped inside, the atmosphere felt leaden.

When I opened the conference room door, Kim Hak-jin rose from his seat and extended a hand.

"Mr. Mayor, thank you for making the trip."

We exchanged a light handshake and took our seats. The moment we faced each other across the table, he studied me with the wary eyes of a man taking another's measure.

"Well then, Mr. Mayor, a pleasure to finally meet you. I imagine there's a great deal to discuss regarding the bus reform plan the city is pushing."

I pulled out a single document and slid it across to him.

"There is. Let's start with the route restructuring."

Kim Hak-jin leafed through the paperwork with studied nonchalance. But the moment his eyes met mine, his smile stiffened slightly.

I continued, unhurried.

"The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trunk lines connecting the old downtown and the new city district will run at five-to-ten-minute intervals. And for the outlying areas, we'll introduce village buses and build connecting routes radiating from the terminal. An entirely different approach from anything you've run before."

He nodded.

"Mr. Mayor, I fully understand that the city is working for its citizens' convenience. But this reform plan—is it really a feasible plan, realistically speaking?"

I gave a small laugh.

"We're pursuing it because it's feasible. Although, Mr. CEO, there is something I'm curious about."

And what would that be?

I turned over another page.

"Looking at Woosoo Bus's current financials, your profitability keeps deteriorating. The city hands you more than 7 billion won in subsidies every year—so why do the losses continue?"

His hand paused, just briefly.

I slid over one more page.

"Among your operating costs, the share consumed by management salaries is considerable. You neglect improvements to the drivers' conditions while the executives keep their generous pay. And I'd also like to know exactly where some of that subsidy money is leaking."

Kim Hak-jin's brow creased slightly.

"Mr. Mayor, is it really necessary to go that far in this room? We've been running this company to the best of our ability. The city has trusted and supported us all these years, hasn't it?"

I tapped the table lightly with a fingertip and spoke quietly.

"Mr. CEO, you're right that today's meeting is about route restructuring. But I believe we should also use this opportunity to address the fundamental problem—and at its core lies the fact that Woosoo Bus currently holds what is, in effect, a monopoly on Yeojin City's bus operations."

His brow furrowed again, slightly deeper this time.

"As we push this restructuring forward, the city has been in contact with other operators. As you know well, Gwangseong City has plenty of competitive bus companies. I can't name a specific one yet, but discussions over the route rights have already begun."

I pressed on.

"Through this reform, we intend to build an entirely new framework and deliver real change to our citizens. The other company is reviewing it favorably, for what it's worth."

Kim Hak-jin's face began to harden, inch by inch.

"And as you well know, Yeojin City's buses have run all the way into central Gwangseong all these years, and they've felt that burden acutely. When we proposed adjusting the routes, they were absolutely delighted."

There was a measure of embellishment in my words, but nothing entirely without basis.

In truth, Gwangseong had spent years complaining of losses in the hundreds of billions of won, demanding the arrangement be preserved. Of course, they may well have exaggerated themselves.

At my words, the hardening in Kim's face gradually gave way to something closer to bewilderment. His reddened face trembled faintly, and he spoke in a voice that sounded like a man strangling his own emotions.

"Is it not a bit cruel to speak this way to a man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who has devoted his whole life to this region? I have lived by one vow since the days when your father—Assemblyman Yeo Byeong-guk—first entered politics: to be the feet of Yeojin's citizens. And now you would do this to me, and push this through no matter what?"

A flicker of sympathy stirred in me at his words, but my conviction that this matter could not be delayed any longer was stronger still.

So I rose slowly from my seat.

"Mr. CEO, take some more time to consider, and consult thoroughly with your staff as well. Our division chief will keep the discussions going so the city can reach a decision quickly. I ask that you come to a resolution soon."

I looked him straight in the eye as I said it.

Kim Hak-jin stared down at the table, lips pressed into a hard line. Anger and bewilderment—and all the words he never managed to say—were tangled in his eyes.

I stood and moved toward the door. Just before opening it, I turned back one last time.

"Mr. CEO. Now is the best timing you will ever get."

The conference room door closed slowly behind me.

A few days passed.

The working-level talks with Woosoo Bus continued after that day, but nothing of substance moved.

The city's transit division sat down at the negotiating table with Woosoo Bus every single day, trading position papers back and forth. What came back was only the same rehearsed arguments and a subtle deflection of responsibility.

"The CEO's approval still hasn't come through."

"He says he'll decide after watching how the council handles the budget."

Both working teams were wearing down. Division Chief Kim Jin-soo came to find me the moment a meeting ended, sighing before he even sat down.

"Mr. Mayor, at this rate the route restructuring itself could get delayed. Woosoo Bus is playing a pure stalling game."

He gestured at the stack of meeting minutes piled on my desk.

"To put it precisely, we're in a situation where both sides are just passing the buck. The CEO keeps deferring his decision, and we no longer have any grounds to push things forward at the working level."

I nodded and asked,

"How's the media reacting?"

Kang Seol-heon cut in.

"The mood turned ugly two days ago. The articles are hammering away—'hasty reform,' 'incompetent negotiation.' And on social media, citizens' complaints are pouring in."

She held her phone screen out to me.

Angry posts tagged with the hashtag were streaming up in real time, and the mood was shifting by the minute.

One outlet ran an editorial on the route reform plan that read:

Cracks began to show in the city council as well. Even the centrist councilors who had been criticizing me until now changed their tune.

"If this keeps dragging on through endless negotiations and fizzles out, it's the citizens who suffer again in the end. Shouldn't the public sector just take it over directly?"

One councilor even said this to the press:

"People talk about transportation as welfare these days. Transportation should be treated on the same principle as welfare. A private monopoly has its limits."

The media seized on it immediately, churning out articles under headlines like "City Council Also Leaves Door Open to Public Bus System..."

I watched the current flow past quietly, marveling at it.

The bus municipalization plan—a option I had never intended to surface, one I had only been considering and discussing with the utmost care—had suddenly risen to the surface all on its own.

And in my heart, I drew out the final card.