[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 11

A quiet Sunday afternoon, in the press room next to the tearoom of Trinity General Academy’s refreshment hall.

Kawaru Sinon, an announcer from the press club who tagged along with a friend, was enjoying a bowl of gyudon while taking a break.

It was one of the rare moments when students from Chronos School—mockingly called “trash reporters”—could relax without worry.

The friend, a student, had been engrossed in their phone for a few minutes, leaving half their gyudon untouched. Yet, they were chatting away with their friend.

“…So, like, yesterday’s article was a real banger. The tear gas scene? Nailed it. Even the editor seemed pretty pleased.”

“If you say that, it’s just self-praise. Stop talking nonsense and finish your gyudon. Why are you tapping away at your phone mid-meal?”

“I’ll eat after I find some more scoop material. Yesterday’s story was my only real hit lately.”

From the student’s words, you’d think they were a veteran reporter, scouring every corner of Trinity for stories, unlike the regular reporters who just churn out press releases from the Tea Party. But, truth be told, the bulk of their daily routine was spent browsing community forums.

They’d skim through popular posts on Trinity General Academy’s student community, copy anything that seemed interesting, and paste it into an article. After nearly two years of this, you could argue they were a veteran in some sense.

The problem was, they were a “trash reporter.”

munch munch 

“…By the way, what if someone files a complaint about the content at the checkpoint? If I get fired over this, I won’t be able to cover for you.”

“No way, what kind of student would get that worked up over a bit of embellishment…? Huh?”

Ring ring, ring ring. A phone rang from the corner of the press room. Unlike the phones connected to Chronos School or other academy newspapers, this was the distinct ringtone for calls directly from the administrative buildings of various academies.

In the Tea Party press room, the only such line came from Trinity’s Tea Hall.

Usually, a ringing phone meant a call to summon reporters for new press releases, but could it be a new scoop?

With the other students out grabbing food, this could be a chance to snag an exclusive.

The student picked up the phone with a trembling heart.

“Hello, this is Chronos School—”

“Who the hell wrote that article?!”

A shout blasted through the receiver, echoing in the press room. The announcer, startled, choked on their food, coughing violently. What was this sudden outburst? They turned to see it was coming from their friend’s phone.

Their friend was covering one ear, wincing in pain and shock, likely suffering from the ringing in their ears. The announcer was thoroughly flustered.

“Uh, uh… excuse me, who is this…?”

“I’m the Trinity Checkpoint Captain, who the hell are you? This is the press room, right? I had to raise hell at the complaint desk to get this number, so don’t try to weasel out of this.”

The student felt utterly screwed, trying their best to calm their racing heart. They’d thought they could score a new hit, but the Checkpoint Captain calling directly? And what was that about raising hell at the complaint desk? Did they really stir up that much trouble?

They’d underestimated the new captain, thinking they’d be a pushover compared to the previous one. But this one was even crazier. The old captain would’ve let this slide, but this person was on another level.

“Where are all the brats who wrote that garbage about suppressing violent protesters yesterday? Chronos kids are great at scurrying away without a trace, huh. Are you one of them?”

“N-no… my colleagues aren’t in the press room right now… should I get the editor for you?”

“No need. Tell your buddies: if you publish trash like that again, I’ll show up with a cannon. Ugh, thinking about it pisses me off again. Did I shoot live rounds? Did I bring a cannon? The Justice Department never gets articles written about their scary boss, but we’re drowning in them? Is the checkpoint an easy target or what?”

“N-no, that’s not what we think…”

“Then keep it quiet! Why are you stirring up crap with articles like that, huh? I’m already swamped, and now I have to deal with this nonsense? You think shouting ‘freedom of the press’ makes it all okay? Should I send the entire checkpoint crew to Chronos and wreck the place?”

The Checkpoint Captain kept yelling, venting their anger for a while before hanging up. Just before the call ended, there was a loud bang and a shout of “Damn it!”—likely the sound of the phone being slammed down.

The student resolved to become a real journalist, one who pounds the pavement like they’d admired as a kid. Meanwhile, Sinon, who had resumed eating their gyudon, didn’t seem to care much.

“…So, what happened?”

“What do you mean, ‘what happened’? They just caused a huge scene. But I think I scared them enough that they’ll behave from now on. Phew, looking at it again, their writing’s pretty damn good.”

The hallmark of Chronos kids is that their grammar and style only shine when they’re twisting the truth.

If this newspaper weren’t a place for digging up scoops but a club for students writing novels, their reputation would probably be much better.

I picked up a copy of the Chronos Academy newspaper, where the front page screamed about the checkpoint. Headlines like “Checkpoint Suppresses Protest… Captain’s Harsh Actions” or “Tear Gas Controversy… No Responsibility from the Tea Party?” were so polished you’d hardly believe they came from Chronos.

If they can write this well, why not just stick to the facts instead of adding so much fluff they’re practically building new legs for the story? If the editorial chief handled this properly, they wouldn’t be catching so much heat.

Anyway, after unloading every curse in the book, I felt much better. Right now, I’m at the checkpoint, treating the kids to katsu-don while I dig into some ramen. The spicy chili powder in this ramen really wakes you up.

“Man, that was savage, senpai! Next time, should we actually drag out a cannon and fire a shot?”

“Then we’d all get fired, Ritsuko-chan. Heads rolling, paychecks gone. Though we’d probably make headlines for a different reason.”

“So that was just a bluff earlier, senpai? What if they publish again?”

“Then… dragging out Hifumi-chan might be a bit much, but I’ll grab a gun and let loose. Even those lunatics would get the message then.”

Sayuri-san raised a question, wondering if that wasn’t a bit extreme, but the Checkpoint Captain isn’t a position that bends over mere doubts. Even if Chronos’s grandmas showed up, we’d have to shoot to protect our autonomy.

If they’d just called it something like “Checkpoint Dispersing Protesters,” it would’ve flown under the radar. But beating up kids? Someone getting hit in the head with tear gas and carted off? We’re not Red Winter students or Gehenna punks firing launchers point-blank.

If that were true, I’d be not just fired, but hauled off to the Justice and Discipline Department, and Trinity’s main plaza would be a riot zone. I’d be summoned to the Tea Party, dragged to a hearing, and getting plenty of exercise.

If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. Thanks to this, I spent hours on the phone clarifying facts. Even Nagisa-sama called to check in. Apparently, the Tea Party was flooded with complaints too.

Luckily, there were enough students witnessing the suppression to back up our side. To celebrate, I treated everyone to katsu-don and even held a cocoa tasting party, which was a hit. A lot of students are coming for “consultations,” but I bet they’re just here for the cocoa.

“Oh, right. Sayuri-san, you remember tomorrow’s schedule?”

“Yeah, going to get Hifumi-chan serviced? Its howitzer screws have been getting loose lately, and the recoil’s worse than before.”

“Exactly. We need to fix it properly this time to avoid trouble. While we’re at it, let’s change the engine oil, set up a sleeping area, and give it a full overhaul.”

“Is there even a place that can do all that? I heard Millennium’s got good tech, but is it that good?”

“Yeah, there’s one place. They’re a bit crazy, but their skills are top-notch.”

“…The Engineering Club, right? The tech-obsessed lunatics.”

Hah, Sayuri-san, you’re sharp as ever. Perfect for being the brains of our checkpoint team.

How’d she guess it just from hearing “crazy”? Well, it’s true, so it’s easy to guess. I wonder if those Engineering Club maniacs know their reputation’s spread all the way to Trinity.

Meanwhile, Ritsuko-chan had already scraped the bottom of her bowl, while Sayuri-san and I are only halfway through our ramen and katsu-don.