[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 48

Suppose a reporter from Chronos School asked me to name the group at the Tea Party Hall I get along with the least.

Nine times out of ten, I’d say the Pater faction. They’re radical, exclusionary, denounce Gehenna while being the most suspected of espionage, and break the commandments of what a political group shouldn’t do like it’s their daily bread. If you shake them up, a ton of dust would fall out.

The reason I don’t get along with them is clear. They don’t like me cracking down hard on their protests. They’re so hell-bent on taking me down that there’s no way we’d get along.

“So, uh.”

“…”

It was around 8 a.m. at the Tea Party Hall. Unlike the administrators heading to the cafeteria with empty stomachs, two students remained in the classroom.

The air between me and the Deputy Director was beyond quiet—it was downright chilly. It was almost summer, and despite the sun being up for hours, warming the air cooled by the night, the atmosphere stayed frosty.

What’s this person thinking? They’ve been silent for minutes now.

Sure, I was the one who barged into the Pater faction’s meeting room, but you’re the ones who went ballistic, trying to haul a club leader like me into a hearing. How dare you act like the victim?

“Look, we can’t just sit here for dozens of minutes. Let’s get to the point. Why’d you do it?”

“It wasn’t me this time.”

“What?”

“I’m not the one coming after you.” The administrator, sounding displeased, downed their tea in one gulp. “I’m about to be sacked.”

“…What’s that supposed to mean? You’re the Deputy Director.”

“Exactly. And a figurehead at that.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“Explain. You look like you’re about to cry. Did something happen in the last few weeks? Sure, there’s been a lot going on, but I haven’t seen you at the protests lately.”

“After our last conversation, I tried to shift my stance a bit. I mean, I still… even now, I don’t like Gehenna. That’s a given for Pater faction members. But, well, I’m somewhat in favor of the Eden Treaty. I respect Nagisa-sama, and I figured they’ve got their own circumstances, right? But…”

“But what? Did they stage a coup because they didn’t like your new direction?”

“Something like that. More faction members than I expected were unhappy with my shift. This morning, I got a call to attend an internal meeting about Trinity’s agricultural development conference. Obviously, Trinity doesn’t have any pressing agricultural issues or even enough farmland for that. My aides also said some radical students are holding secret meetings.”

“I get the picture. It’s obvious for both of us. They’ll probably tear into you the moment you walk in, demanding you resign. I’ve seen it before.”

“I’ve seen it more than once myself. Their tactics are too obvious. The problem is, it shows how confident they are. They’ve got a lot of cards to play. I might have to resign today or tomorrow.”

The Deputy Director was practically in tears.

According to her, the request to summon me to a hearing had her seal on it, but she claims she never stamped it. I don’t know if she’s lying or genuinely wronged.

Regardless, she seems to have lost almost all hostility toward me, or perhaps toward Pater’s opposition. In our first surprise meeting and even now, she just looked confused.

Is she resigned, knowing she can’t retaliate once she’s ousted? Or is she shocked by the reality of a coup by Pater’s hardliners, giving up entirely?

The Deputy Director made a V-sign with her fingers.

“I hope it doesn’t come to this, but if I do resign, you need to remember two things.”

“Are you advising me as someone sitting in a soon-to-be-vacant position, or as a member of Trinity General Academy’s social scene?”

“Both. First, the current Pater faction students are far more hardline than when you and I were around. Hawks among hawks, you could say. They’re not itching for war right now, but they’re definitely the type who’d want one.”

“Got it. They’re going to cause even more trouble. What’s the second thing?”

“Uh, well…”

She hesitated but then steeled herself and said,

“They might try to tear you apart.”

Despite our bad blood, I felt her final words carried genuine sincerity.

Two days later, she announced her resignation with a brief statement. Despite being a political event within one of the three factions ruling Trinity’s social scene, it didn’t garner much media attention.

Student apathy and upper-level information control likely played a part, but the fact that it was Pater probably helped. Their leadership purges happen two or three times a month. The Deputy Director now works as the deputy head of the Communications Office.

I attended the hearing that same day.

***

“—This suggests the possibility that the Border Checkpoint sold the Caesar self-propelled artillery system, commonly known as the Caesar, to warlord-grade armed forces in Gehenna Academy, an academy strategically adversarial to Trinity General Academy.”

“I believe it’s reasonable to consider that possibility. Our Pater faction demands an explanation from Captain Yamatsu Hikari regarding this matter, which is directly tied to security. Do not exercise your right to remain silent.”

“…I need to think before answering.”

If I had time to think, that is. My head’s spinning like I’m dizzy.

While psychology holds that pinpointing every cause of mental turmoil is impossible, excessive stress and absurd situations are definitely among them.

I’m in exactly that situation. I’m so dumbfounded I’m losing it, and it’s causing me significant psychological distress. At least, unlike my heated exchanges with Nagisa-sama, I don’t have to speak much here, which is a relief.

What situation am I in? Honestly, it’s pretty ordinary in a way. Just a hearing. A few administrators from the three factions sit around, I’m stuck in the center chair, fending off a barrage of questions.

Maybe they feared my retaliation, but holding it at night without jurors or reporters makes it no different from a typical hearing.

My issue lies with the hearing itself—or rather, why they called me. Over dozens of minutes, many questions were asked, but they all boil down to one theme:

“Did the Border Checkpoint commit treason for your personal gain?”

It’s a completely unrealistic question. These people don’t seem to know how I acquired the Caesars. While social scene students often distance themselves from the military, it’s a failing on their part as hearing organizers.

What is the Border Checkpoint? It’s a group that still officially uses the SA80 as its standard firearm. Even now, when bombardment is our focus, we don’t legally operate tanks or self-propelled artillery as standard equipment.

Let me say it again: the Border Checkpoint has not officially adopted a single self-propelled howitzer. Keep that in mind.

For those who don’t get it, “not standard” means it’s not produced internally by Trinity General Academy. Obviously, I bought the Caesars with real money—well, Checkpoint budget money—from a private company.

And yet, the new Pater Deputy Director is pointing a baton at a screen displaying a Caesar, claiming I sold my precious artillery to Gehenna. How absurd is that?

I’m not that weak, nor do I manage so loosely that I’d let my subordinates pull something like that.

“Uh, Deputy Director. I have a fundamental question. I’m curious, and I’m not sure if you folks know this—maybe they do.”

“What is it? Speak.”

“Trinity General Academy’s Border Checkpoint has adopted firearms as standard, but no vehicles as standard self-propelled artillery. So, the Caesars… I bought them with my money—er, Checkpoint budget—from a company in France. Did you know that?”

“I’m aware. But currently, the only group in all of Kivotos operating a large-scale Caesar artillery unit is your Border Checkpoint.”

“Isn’t that irrelevant? We’ve maintained exactly 40 Caesars since their introduction. These aren’t just any shells; I’d know if someone sold an entire truck’s worth. Did your headquarters sell them?”

“…That, uh, I hadn’t considered.”

I didn’t expect that admission to come from your mouth.

The Deputy Director, visibly flustered, started hiccupping.

***

From the Pater faction’s perspective, the hearing was a complete bust.

They couldn’t take me down, their thorn in the side, nor could they drag it into the media. For me, it’s just a case of getting blindsided while working hard, but for the latter… well, I’ve done a lot to the press.

They were too intimidated to interview me as I left the hearing, just snapping photos. I can’t help that. The top-voted comment on the news article with my photo still sticks with me.

===

ㅇㅇ(168.71)

[I don’t want to say this, but she looks straight-up like secret police]

└ [Worse than the secret police chief]

└ [Her glare when I crossed the border was so cold I thought I was done for ;;]

└ [Someone report this chick]

What’s wrong with my glare? Where else will you find such a happy expression?

I’m not actually happy. I’m just pretty pissed off. Regardless of the hearing’s outcome, the fact that they dragged me into it with such flimsy evidence grates on me. Not psychologically, but politically.

The current Pater faction feels like an organization born to obstruct me and the Checkpoint at every turn. I now understand what the former Deputy Director meant before her ousting. They’re practically latent rebels.

They’d overturn the Tea Party itself if it suited them. And I think I need to prepare a response.

“Hey, Sayuri-san? I’m heading back. Can you gather the eight-member committee in the strategy meeting room? I’ve got something to discuss. What? No, no, it’s not that important. I won’t report it to the Tea Party either.”

Even if it’s a bit illegal.

“Just… I’m putting together a plan.”