[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 77

It’s peaceful.

So damn peaceful.

“Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, sure.” Mitsuki-san’s threats didn’t faze me, and thankfully, she kept her promise.

There’s no issue with Arius or Mika-sama either. The branch students have started reading books in the break room or the city library instead of swinging around like monkeys. The faction leader isn’t causing trouble and seems to be quietly staying in the Tea Party’s confinement room.

For the past few days, I’ve been holed up at the checkpoint headquarters. The host hasn’t summoned me, and the recent string of incidents has left me mentally and physically drained. Rebellions, counterintelligence—how many cases have I, a department head, personally handled?

I’m human too.

I just want to soak in some phytoncides and heal.

These must be the best days for the students at the border checkpoint. With no work to do when I’m already exhausted, shouldn’t I be happy?

If this serene atmosphere persists, I could stay cooped up in the checkpoint headquarters and rest indefinitely. Located on the opposite side of Trinity General Academy’s bustling city, nestled in the heart of a vast forest, the checkpoint headquarters is a great place to soothe the mind.

But I know this peace will vanish in a few days. The incidents so far haven’t required direct action from the checkpoint headquarters, but at the checkpoints facing Gehenna and Abydos, gunfire erupts several times a day.

It’s fortunate that the frequency of attacks hasn’t suddenly changed. That means nothing is being planned.

The ones planning something aren’t them.

Those haughty folks don’t have the scale to threaten Trinity General Academy. They lack the capability, and anyway, they’re content with briefly catching our attention. Their goal is something as crude as smuggling, not anything grand.

In this eerily calm counterintelligence network, can we filter out anything significant? It’d be great if we uncovered a conspiracy worth shouting about regarding the Eden Treaty, but in this golden age—or perhaps rock bottom—of counterintelligence operations, that’s just a pipe dream.

It’s beyond premature. With how many Arius spies we’ve caught from the Tea Party and various clubs, I’m convinced there can’t be many left. Honestly, I agree. Arius Branch’s intelligence unit must have taken a significant hit.

I don’t need to know the exact extent. With this number of students, the collapse of their intelligence network is inevitable. A “security disaster.”

Of course, as a member of a club responsible for Trinity General Academy’s defense—commonly classified as a paramilitary organization—the Border Checkpoint’s countermeasures committee must prepare for all potential risks. And I think I’m doing my part.

I won’t deny that I’m trying to justify lounging on the office sofa, idling away for hours. But even so, I am making efforts. In various ways—like handling requests from the Ordnance Bureau or coordinating operations with the Justice Task Force.

If I had my way, I’d use the most brute-force method: expanding our scale. But reality stands in the way.

“They say reality is the cruelest thing. I’ve experienced it a lot,” she said.

“No doubt you’ve had more experience than me. They say you have to hang yourself at least once to become a CEO, so how much worse must it be for a president? I actually admire your life, President.”

“Haha, then I should thank you.”

The biggest issue is the lack of budget. The Tea Party holds exclusive control over the border checkpoint’s budget allocation, and Nagisa-sama believes she’s provided more than enough. It’s true that this quarter’s budget is over double the last, but it’s still not enough.

If I had just a bit more time, I could’ve used the new quarter’s budget to acquire twenty more Caesars. With a supplementary budget, maybe even thirty. That would’ve allowed us to increase the checkpoint’s personnel, which would’ve been a huge help.

If only I had a few more weeks—or just a billion yen more.

We could’ve gotten them at half price as VVIPs. That would’ve saved a ton.

“Then why not purchase them now and pay after receiving the budget? We trust you, Department Head.”

“Haha… President, do you know what they call that?”

“In typical contracts, it’s called delayed payment, but we won’t charge late fees. It’s common in the black market, Department Head. Since you called today, why not finalize the contract? It’d benefit both of us—”

“No, it’s not just delayed payment. Contracts with standing clubs are handled more politically.”

The president of the French defense contractor on the phone seemed at a loss for words.

Poor old robot grandpa. His ambitious new tank development plan was obliterated by Kaiser Industries’ aggressive push just a few days ago. I heard rumors of a black market hearing, though nothing was reported in the press.

With their internal morale already shaky, it’s understandable that they’d jump at a call from their biggest client, the border checkpoint. When I asked about the per-unit price of self-propelled guns, they immediately offered a contract for twenty units.

But that doesn’t mean I agree.

“President, the press calls that cronyism. Should our relationship be seen that way?”

“Yes, you’re right. I understand, but…”

“Sorry. For the sake of both our images, I can’t accept such favors.”

To determine legality, it’d be quicker to consult the general student council regulations than Trinity’s canon law—Nagisa-sama recently permitted using the shorthand—but public opinion is sensitive to such news.

The press’s reaction would be polarized. Whether handled as a secret deal or not, an increase in our Caesar stockpile would inevitably be noticed. Friendly newspapers would report it as a boost to defense capabilities, while critical ones would highlight the possibility of favoritism.

The problem is that the majority of the press is critical of us. Chronos, Chronos, and Chronos, for example.

Borrowing a term from Red Winter Federal Academy, even that bourgeois academy has law-related clubs. Bespectacled elite students make it their job to dig through canon and regulations to give their papers a shred of credibility, and they love it.

“The public and the Tea Party won’t approve. The general student council’s hammer scares me too.”

“…Understood.”

“Don’t take it too hard. The world’s unpredictable. Who knows what might happen in a few days?”

“I’ll take it in good faith. You’ll call again after the Eden Treaty, then?”

“Yes, exactly. Take care until then.” The call ended, and the cozy office filled with the hum of a fan and the chirping of birds outside.

Ugh, what a shame. I said what I said, but I was kind of hoping for it. If we had two hundred—or even just a hundred—Caesars, we could easily overpower Gehenna’s Prefect Team or Kaiser Industries’ armored corps.

If I were Nagisa-sama, could I have passed the proposal without opposition? Nagisa-sama, who stitched together the shattered Eden Treaty and brought it to completion, achieved that through her authority and political prowess.

If I could wield even half the authority she commands… couldn’t I clear all the obstacles in my way?

“…Ah.”

But now that I think about it…

I’m terrible at politics.

I’m screwed.

***

When Kotone Muronaga, the Ordnance Bureau chief, was practically dragged into the room, a girl with teal hair turned and approached.

There was no need for Kotone, at least two years her senior, to feel intimidated by a first-year student, but the obligation to obey authority remained. As the second-in-command handling the border checkpoint’s operations, her position carried significant weight among subordinates, and she knew how to use it.

Her name was Sayuri Morishita. Unlike the enigmatic Sanctus faction leader, Sayuri wasn’t usually like this, but when she deemed it necessary, she wielded her authority freely, which felt distinctly foreign.

That she had the capability to act decisively was a disaster for Kotone. Since middle school, Sayuri had been a key member of the Pater faction and was even offered the role of sub-faction leader. She was undeniably capable.

Capable, in other words, meant cunning. Cunning enough to take down enemies. A few must have already fallen.

Kotone feared a harsh reprimand for the recent incident, so Sayuri’s unexpectedly gentle greeting was a relief. But what would follow was anyone’s guess.

“You seem tense. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“N-No, I’m fine. I just had tea time earlier today. I’m tense… well, just because.”

“I see. I’m sorry, but you have a lot to explain. You know that, right?”

“…I don’t think it’s something to be reprimanded for.”

The previous incident was an unforeseen catastrophe. In terms of its scale or the amount of data lost, the academic community suffered astronomical losses. Some injured students were more concerned about the data than their own injuries.

But it shouldn’t all fall on her shoulders. All safety protocols were followed, and according to Millennium Science School’s simulations, the chance of spontaneous combustion was akin to being struck by lightning.

Kotone believed no student could have prevented it. It was a natural disaster.

But the teal-haired girl seemed to view it as entirely a man-made disaster. Kotone felt the need to protest.

“I completed the weapon the checkpoint captain ordered. Even if you don’t think so, I believe I need to meet her. I want to confirm if she understands its potential…”

“You certainly proved its potential to cause incidents. The lab was half-destroyed, and six researchers were unconscious under rubble until the Knight Order arrived. I can’t fathom what kind of experiment you intended.”

“That experiment was proposed by the First Research Institute’s director. I voted against it.”

“And did you manage to stop it? Chief Kotone, I hope you didn’t come here just to make such flimsy excuses.”

“No, but…”

“There’s no thermobaric bomb. Not at the checkpoint headquarters, not at the lab, nowhere. The Tea Party was told it was an unfortunate accident due to mishandling nitroglycerin, and it wasn’t even exposed to the press, including Chronos.”

“…Understood.” The girl dismissed Kotone’s excuses as “flimsy” and didn’t hide her anger.

“Make sure the captain doesn’t have any doubts about your work. Until you convince her that your team’s small mistake won’t lead to another disaster, you’d better keep working.”

“…”

“No matter how you look at me, my stance won’t change. I don’t want to see a skeptical captain inspecting your lab. It wouldn’t be good for appearances or for you.”

Sayuri Morishita, despite her personality, expressed only mild concern before turning to leave.

But the Ordnance Bureau chief couldn’t help but hold a small hope. The research institute’s director had openly shown ambition to claim the unprecedented research as her own, causing Kotone immense stress.

What if the administrator supported her? Perhaps the entire border checkpoint organization would back her. In the best-case scenario, all her worries could vanish.

Kotone asked the wrong question.

“So, does that mean… I’d have full authority? If you could speak to the captain—”

Click.

In the blink of an eye, Sayuri Morishita pressed a pistol against the bureau chief’s chest.

The ornate black slide pressed against her, making it slightly hard to breathe.

“…”

“What would happen if I shot you right here? Or knocked you out and threw you in the basement prison with some fabricated charge. What then?”

“…I misspoke. I’m sorry.”

“Be careful that ambition doesn’t choke you, Chief Kotone. You and I both know that students who understand their limits tend to last longer.”

Sayuri Morishita issued her warning and left as if nothing had happened.

As she vanished, Kotone forced an uneasy smile. She hadn’t been sacked, and Sayuri had spared her. They must have deemed her too valuable to dismiss—perhaps even the commander.

Maybe, if it was her choice, with her influence reaching every corner of the Tea Party… it meant Kirifuji Nagisa acknowledged her usefulness. It was pure speculation without evidence, but to the Ordnance Bureau chief, such facts didn’t matter.

Kotone left the room with renewed vigor. Still pressed for time with plenty to do, she figured she had at least a moment for a short walk.

This will be my legacy. This research, all of it—

“It’s my achievement.”

Not that damned woman’s—it will be my legacy.