Mikhail's thumb tapped the screen. The message came from Erik.
"Zoning complaints filed. Noise, traffic, air quality. Local paper picking it up."
Mikhail's jaw tensed. Outside, Lars and Kat were still beaming at the ownership certificate, but he felt the weight shift. The dream had barely been stamped, and already it was being questioned.
He turned the screen to them. "We've got a new fire."
Kat leaned in, her brow tightening. "Already? That was fast."
"They want to drag us before we've even broken real ground," Mikhail muttered, walking down the steps into the muddy lot. The ground squelched beneath his boots, the same ground he now legally owned. But possession didn't mean freedom. Not yet.
Lars pocketed the trowel. "What's the plan?"
"Get ahead of it," Mikhail said. "We can't let the first public impression be us as villains choking out the neighborhood."
Kat bit her lip. "If it's noise and air complaints, we'll need to show mitigation."
"We'll show everything," Mikhail said. "Plans, forecasts, emission control designs. Hell, I'll show the diagram of the drainage slope for their front lawns if that'll calm them down."
They piled into Lars's old truck, the windshield already fogging up as Mikhail forwarded the complaint summary to himself. On the way back to the site trailer, the text of the formal complaint loaded. Eight bullet points. Anonymous submissions, but clearly from nearby property owners.
He read each one aloud.
"'Increased dust runoff toward children's playground.'"
"'Trucks parked overnight on residential streets.'"
"'Lights visible from bedroom windows after 10 PM.'"
Kat shook her head. "Half of that's exaggeration. We've barely brought in two deliveries."
"They're scared," Mikhail said. "Change, noise, industry. They see the cranes and they think it's the end of their quiet evenings."
Lars glanced at him. "Are you planning to explain that to them? Or pave over the problem?"
"Explain. With drawings, if necessary." Mikhail's voice had an edge. "But if they still try to kill the project with letters and lawyers, then I will pave. And I won't stop."
Back at the trailer, they pinned the complaint notice on the wall next to the floor plans. Mikhail stood back and stared at it. A new kind of blueprint, one of resistance. Not steel and concrete, but doubt and paper cuts.
Kat was already typing up a response memo. "We'll need to draft public documentation, dust suppression strategy, noise barriers, traffic reroutes. I'll start the environmental compliance section."
Mikhail nodded. "I'll handle the outreach. Face-to-face. People aren't won over by PDFs."
There was a knock at the trailer door, quick, firm.
Lars opened it.
A man in a neon safety vest and hard hat stood there, holding a clipboard and a camera. Behind him were two more figures, one with a camcorder aimed squarely at the trailer.
"City inspectors," the man said. "We're here to assess permit violations regarding zoning, emissions, and noise ordinances."
Mikhail stepped forward, squaring his shoulders.
"Then come in," he said. "I've got a full site plan, and a damn good reason for every bolt."
He held the door open.
The inspector stepped into the trailer with the caution of a man expecting a fight. He scanned the cluttered workspace, rolls of blueprints, a half-eaten sandwich on a concrete core sample, Kat's laptop still open to a CAD diagram. Behind him, the other two officials filed in quietly. The camcorder's red light blinked.
"Name?" the lead inspector asked, flipping to the top sheet on his clipboard.
"Mikhail DuPont," he said. "Owner of the property. Licensed project lead."
The inspector paused, then nodded. "You're the one with the old plant revival scheme."
"No scheme," Mikhail replied. "Just plans. Approved, filed, and stamped. Want to see the documents?"
He didn't wait for permission. He stepped to the drafting table and swept aside a pile of metal fasteners, revealing a binder stuffed with forms, drawings, soil tests, and inspection logs. He flipped straight to the zoning certificate.
"Section 8C, line item twelve," he said, tapping the page. "Allows for early operation under transitional zoning, provided mitigation steps are in place and documented."
Kat appeared beside him with her laptop. "We're installing dust skirts on all loaded vehicles," she said, clicking through a schematic. "Concrete washout pits are being poured on-site next week. Dust monitors go up Monday."
The camcorder swiveled toward her. She didn't flinch.
Lars crossed his arms in the corner, silent, but watching everything.
The inspector skimmed the documents with a practiced eye. "Traffic mitigation?"
"Delivery trucks are scheduled between 10 a.m. and 4 p.m.," Mikhail said. "No idling over five minutes. We've got holding zones mapped out to keep them off residential streets. Here," He pulled another sheet. "Routing plans, with detour signage budgeted."
The inspector flipped another page, then stopped. "What about noise control?"
"We're installing acoustic blankets along the east fencing," Kat said quickly. "And all night shifts will be limited to interior work with equipment below 85 decibels. Generators are sound-suppressed. These are the receipts." She handed him three printed invoices.
The inspector exhaled. His tone softened, not warm, but less combative. "You're better prepared than most."
Mikhail gave a nod. "We knew this wouldn't be popular. But this project isn't just steel and gravel, it's homes, jobs, materials that don't need to be imported. It's smarter city planning, not shortcutting it."
The inspector closed the binder. "If half of this is on-site, I'll sign the compliance log and recommend conditional continuation."
Mikhail extended a hand. The inspector shook it, firm, brisk.
"I'll send our environmental analyst next," the man added. "Expect another visit within the week."
"We'll be ready."
As the team filed out, the trailer door thudded shut behind them. Kat sank into a chair, rubbing her eyes.
"God, that could've gone worse," she muttered.
Lars snorted. "He didn't even make us bribe him. Must be our lucky week."
Mikhail didn't answer. He stood at the window, watching the inspectors move across the muddy lot, their boots leaving prints in his land.
Then his phone buzzed again.
He checked the screen.
"Community town hall announced. You're on the agenda."
He turned the phone to Kat and Lars.
"Looks like the neighborhood wants answers too."