[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 79

It took less than ten days to meet the Ordnance Bureau chief.

Citing security concerns, she met me at a rendezvous point to verify my identity before leading me to the Ordnance Bureau’s secretive research facility. The experience of riding in the back of a four-wheeled vehicle felt so familiar it was almost surprising.

Most of the Tea Party’s administrative bodies prefer ceremonial vehicles like the Phantom IV over regular trucks, but these folks must be pretty strapped for cash. We use trucks as standard for troop transport, but these guys… sigh.

No wonder they sent a letter begging for funds to the checkpoint, despite having no prior connection.

The truck carrying me and the bureau chief seemed headed toward the checkpoint headquarters in the great forest, but at some point, it veered onto a barely visible path in the middle of the woods. The dense forest was filled with the familiar scent of phytoncides.

It’s surprising that the Ordnance Bureau’s reach extends so close to the checkpoint headquarters, but more importantly—

What were they thinking, setting up a research facility on the border with Gehenna Academy? Did they think it was a strategically sound decision? Even if it’s near Gehenna, did they not want to miss the advantage of concealment offered by tens of thousands of square meters of forest?

Honestly, if I worked for the Ordnance Bureau, I wouldn’t go anywhere near a place where shells could drop at any moment.

“Bold bunch, aren’t they?”

“Huh…?”

“Impressive, I mean.”

I gave a vague response to the bureau chief’s puzzled look. Both descriptions fit, anyway.

Scattered across the vast fiefdom of Trinity General Academy, they’ve created a research network linked by pathways. The facilities vary in size, but their collective scale rivals that of Millennium Science School.

Each facility likely pursues different projects, but in terms of importance, the Stardust Project is probably a common endeavor across all of them. Developing a thermobaric bomb would require experts from a wide range of fields.

And handling all those research reports… is the bureau chief standing before me.

A third-year, I heard. She seems small and somewhat childish for a senior, though. Not many people wear lab coats outside a research facility, and even fewer look like kids wearing oversized adult clothes.

I don’t know what she does, but her development is… remarkable, to say the least. Saying that out loud would be terribly rude, though. It’s not a socially acceptable comment.

I know better. I don’t want to get called out and scolded by Nagisa-sama.

Let’s keep quiet.

Clunk.

“Eek… It’s really bumpy today…”

“…”

“What? Is something wrong…?”

“No, nothing. Really.”

I need to keep my mouth shut. Why say anything to someone like her?

Unlike my concerns, the truck’s path wound around the forest’s edge, not revealing its destination easily.

The bureau chief seemed accustomed to hours of nonstop driving. Despite her groans as the truck jostled, she didn’t complain much and savored the forest’s scent.

The sky was dark, like a winter day heavy with pine needles. At first, I thought it was just the path cutting through the forest, but I realized the sky wasn’t visible—it was replaced by concrete slabs. The presence of yellow incandescent lights passed by continuously.

The vehicle had descended beneath the roots of the forest trees.

“Now I see how the Ordnance Bureau built a facility in the great forest. Aside from the Tea Party and the cathedral, I’ve never heard of a facility this large. It feels like Trinity’s entire engineering corps would’ve been mobilized for this…”

“This building was constructed decades ago, and it’s still standing strong. Our seniors must’ve hated shoddy work…”

This isn’t just hating shoddy work—it looks like they gave the construction manager full authority to make it solid. With half the concrete poured into this tunnel, you could fill the river encircling the city.

It seemed less about housing a massive facility and more about distributing the load on a tunnel dug unusually deep. Judging by the incline, we must have descended at least a hundred meters.

After about ten minutes, the truck entered a bustling area filled with busy students.

“What do you think? Surprised…?”

“…Wow.”

Even a rough estimate put the ceiling height at over 30 meters, with a concrete tetrahedron spanning about 200 meters by 200 meters.

Hundreds of students moved purposefully, working on their projects, supported by steel-framed structures two or three stories high, making the place resemble a French industrial factory.

Considering the quality and quantity of materials used and the caliber of students working here… maybe it’s more accurate to say a factory resembles this research facility. It’s truly an impressive sight.

I couldn’t help but be awestruck.

This place was, without a doubt, the pinnacle of Trinity General Academy’s technological prowess.

“Hah, haha… My God, this is… incredible.”

“I guess… I come here to work every day, so it’s gotten a bit dull for me…”

***

What a shame.

I can’t see the thermobaric bomb test today!

“We’re not ignoring the risk assessment, but if preparations proceed normally, how long will it take?”

“Three to four days. There’s some debate about whether the test site legally belongs to Abydos High School…”

Oh, I’ve been through that plenty of times. The disputes with the Justice Task Force over combat zone delineations…

There were two main issues.

First, as the bureau chief mentioned, it’s hard to determine whether the test site falls under Abydos High School’s administrative district or Kaiser Corporation’s ownership. An unclaimed area would be ideal, but there’s no clear documentation.

Second, construction of the test facility was delayed due to attacks by the Helmet Gang scattered across Abydos’s autonomous district a few days ago. For this, the solution was simpler: temporarily dispatch the checkpoint’s infantry and artillery units.

The question of why we’re building a facility when the administrative issue isn’t resolved stems from a vague assumption that whoever files a complaint likely holds the rights.

“…You know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

“I thought it was credible at the time.”

This is why engineering students are clueless about administration. No different from Millennium.

Still, things are improving. Our troops, arriving in an hour or two, will shell the poorly trained Helmet Gang members as they attack, and after a couple of beatdowns, they won’t dare try again.

There’s also a glimmer of hope for the administrative issue. Whether it’s Abydos High School or Kaiser Corporation, someone from the Abydos autonomous district offered to help resolve it.

We sent a response and settled on a rendezvous point. The generous contact chose a ruin near the test site.

Who could it be? An inexperienced Ordnance Bureau radio operator—who later got an earful—had sent communications to random sectors of Abydos, making it impossible to identify the sender. They seem concerned about security too, as they’ve stopped communicating now.

“This test is practically the final phase of the thermobaric bomb’s development, so it’s taking longer than a typical experiment. I’m sorry about that… You must have a lot on your plate too, Captain Hikari.”

“It’s fine. Most of my work involves physical tasks like inspecting the artillery unit, so it’s not a big deal. If it’s paperwork, I can just pass it to Sayuri-san.”

“Oh… Speaking of, there’s been a lot of talk about you in the Ordnance Bureau.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“The bureau’s students often get summoned by Administrator Sayuri… That junior of yours… no, that person is like Pater’s incarnation. She digs into weaknesses and interrogates like a maniac. But you treat her like just a junior, so to students who don’t know you, how scary must that seem?”

“…Sayuri-san? I don’t recall her being like that… She doesn’t get too mad at Ritsuko-chan over small things either. Sounds like you’ve had a rough time, though?”

“More than you know. Every time, I wondered just how terrifying the checkpoint captain must be.”

Saying that so casually to my face is what’s truly terrifying.

Of course, Sayuri-san holds a superior position over the bureau chief and other students. She may no longer work at the Tea Party, but as a Pater faction executive with considerable influence, she knows how to wield it.

Still, pushing too hard can alienate people. I should tell Sayuri-san to loosen the reins on the Ordnance Bureau a bit. Otherwise, they might stage a strike like those Red Winter commies.

“Chief, we’ve got a call. The person offering consultation wants to talk.”

“Uh, okay… Connect them to this phone.”

About 30 seconds after the radio operator’s message, the black plastic phone rang loudly.

Since it’s Ordnance Bureau property, it seemed better for the chief to take it. I figured deciding the test site was their prerogative, not the checkpoint’s. But the chief handed me the receiver with a reluctant look.

“…You want me to take it?”

“I think you’ll handle it better.”

“…Sigh.” This is ridiculous.

With trembling hands, I held the receiver to my ear. Soon, a heavy mechanical tone came through.

“Hello, can you hear me?”

“Yes, loud and clear. Who is this?” Confirming the connection, the other party spoke boldly.

“Nice to meet you. I’m a director from Kaiser PMC, a subsidiary of Kaiser Corporation.”

Hmm.

That name sounds familiar.