[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 81

The industrial district of Abydos’s autonomous zone was quiet.

Sunaookami Shiroko was cycling hundreds of kilometers to digest her lunch. Serika freaked out upon hearing her morning routine, but oh well.

It was just light exercise. A bicycle cut across the asphalt road, half-melted by the heat.

Shiroko pedaled vigorously but had to stop abruptly. A deafening explosion echoed across the vast golden landscape, reverberating through the boundless sky.

The horizon, once a straight line, trembled.

Yellow assaulted blue in a fierce onslaught. The contrast tore apart, and balance twisted, forming an unrefined shape.

If this were a situation unfolding on a horizontal plane, someone might call it an offensive line drawn on a strategic map.

But Sunaookami Shiroko, well-versed in strategic maps, didn’t think so.

The sand dunes, with their immense scale, were endlessly spreading toward the blue sky.

Gravity had warped. Shiroko immediately called Ayane.

“…Yeah, I’m fine. But there’s a problem with the horizon.”

“A problem?”

“The horizon’s gone.”

“…What?!”

It was a disaster that rattled her kind junior’s nerves, but what could be done?

***

“I owe you an apology, Chief Kotone. This exceeded my expectations. You’ve worked hard, Senpai.”

“Haha… I hope you’ll report as much to Nagisa. I’m exhausted…”

“I’ll make sure of it, don’t worry. I’ll explain your contributions thoroughly to Nagisa-sama. Of course, aside from copyright, strategic control of the thermobaric bomb should go to the checkpoint. I’m not sure if you’ll agree.”

“That’s fine. The Ordnance Bureau doesn’t even know how to use it anyway.”

To most observers, the test was deemed a resounding success. A 2.4-mile diameter area was literally upheaved.

The bomb’s firepower was enough to collapse bedrock deep beneath the dunes. Only the instruments’ data could confirm it, and we’d need to investigate after the debris settled, but… I was thoroughly satisfied.

Even from 10 miles away, the triangular fragments of earth soaring upward were vivid. The results far exceeded Chief Kotone’s power calculations. No matter how you look at it, the yield was at least double what was expected.

As for deployment, since no strategy has been established yet, it’s not a pressing issue.

But realizing that its power makes conventional combat scenarios impractical, I can only guess it’ll be a long time before this bomb sees actual use. It should only be deployed in conflicts larger than localized skirmishes.

I mean, we can’t just fire off a thermobaric bomb because some students are stirring trouble on the Gehenna front, right? That’d get us dragged before a general student council hearing, not the Tea Party, and branded as war criminals.

A tip for those hauled before a hearing: unlike Pater, the student council executives have no tolerance, so tread carefully.

Rest in peace.

Leaving my conversation with the bureau chief behind, I approached the students in the back. Their shocked expressions were a bonus. The Ordnance Bureau researchers were moved by the masterpiece they’d poured their time and effort into, but my juniors seemed deeply shaken by the spectacle.

I could understand the researchers’ enthusiasm, reveling in the fireball lighting up the noon sky. No accidents occurred, and it was a success they could proudly claim. For them, this was their reward.

But still… is it right for young ladies who’ve never been shot at to be so thrilled by an explosion?

Sayuri-san, Ritsuko-chan, and five or six others were gathered, buzzing with their thoughts. From what I could overhear, opinions on the thermobaric bomb were split between awe and unease. A Pater (Gehenna-affiliated) faction member was in the corner, talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes. Yes, I understand. I’ll hand it over right away.”

“What’s going on, Junior?”

“Ah! Um, it’s… Nagisa-sama. She wants to speak to you, Captain.”

Here it comes.

I expected the news to travel fast, given that the Eight-Member Committee includes Tea Party administrators.

But I never imagined I’d get a call in the middle of the experiment, while the reaction was still ongoing. Knowing Nagisa-sama’s personality, she might have felt some unspoken emotion upon hearing about the test.

Sigh, the host’s intelligence network is everywhere. What circumstances led a Pater faction member and a Filius faction leader to exchange contacts? A wildly popular junior with connections to both Gehenna Academy and Trinity General Academy’s student council president.

I took the phone from the student. Kirifuji Nagisa—five characters on the screen. Soon, a familiar voice came through.

“—Loyalty. checkpoint captain. Have you been well?”

“Yes, I’ve been… well. Things have been busy lately. I heard the border checkpoint finalized a contract.”

“I’d like to say it was a tremendously beneficial deal for Trinity General Academy. I don’t know what got into Kaiser, but they were surprisingly generous. We saved a lot of money. We got 900,000 acres for a steal.”

“It’s within a club’s authority to handle a simple land contract… but a deal with Kaiser Corporation concerns me. The press might see the checkpoint as openly colluding with a corporation.”

“We’re being extra cautious. Even if the contract is exposed through the media, we’ll ensure public opinion doesn’t take notice. There won’t be any issues, so don’t worry.”

“You can handle it without my interference, right?”

“As long as we keep quiet, it’ll be fine. You know, like the saying: a pheasant doesn’t get shot if it doesn’t cry.”

The contract issue can be left to Mitsuki-san. Since Chronos School is rumored to be the most hostile to Trinity, if Mitsuki-san writes a neutral article, other media outlets will have to follow suit, won’t they?

This is why you keep your enemies close. Having a Chronos tabloid journalist—the kind that hates Trinity girls the most—by your side proves useful in unexpected situations. It’s a paradoxical effect.

“And… how did the experiment go, Hikari-san? Mio-san said it was impressive.”

“It was a success. The bureau chief achieved a remarkable goal. I’m very satisfied.”

“Could you give me a rough idea of its power?”

Describing the thermobaric bomb’s power… Students in military studies typically use toluene nitrate explosives as a unit, citing tons or kilotons, but explaining that to Nagisa-sama, who’s far removed from military studies…

Since a kilometer-based radius is easy to estimate visually, I’ll explain it in terms of blast radius. Urban areas like D.U. might not resonate, so I’ll use Trinity General Academy’s city as a reference.

This is tricky to calculate on the spot. With a 2.4-mile radius from ground zero, the thermal storm might reach the old library.

“If dropped in the middle of Cross Park, it could easily reach the cathedral. I believe it would sweep everything within that radius and cause temporary bedrock collapse. Since this was tested in the dunes, the damage in a city would be even greater.”

“…Am I the only one who thinks this is dangerous? You said the Ordnance Bureau and checkpoint have been working on this for a while, but that level of power… personally, I think it’s excessive. It’s obvious what would happen if it fell into hostile hands.”

“That’s why it was made for testing. All research data and test records will be stored in the Ordnance Bureau’s data center and checkpoint headquarters. The materials used in its production will be disassembled.”

If I didn’t prepare for counterintelligence after two security disasters, I’d change my name to Baka (idiot).

Yamatsu Hikari is not a fool! I’ve had enough of headaches. For any “subversive” students from Arius Branch still out there, I’ve scattered the bomb’s blueprints into hundreds of pieces. They’d need to raid every Ordnance Bureau lab in the great forest and the checkpoint headquarters—open 24/7 like a bullet convenience store—to piece together even a small picture.

The sadness of my adversaries is my joy. You’d have to turn over every stone to complete that puzzle.

“…I trust you, Hikari-san. Keep up the good work.”

“Have a great day.”

As Nagisa-sama’s suspicions eased, I saw the debris slowly settling back to the ground. It takes seconds for the earth to be torn apart and hours to return to normal. Valuable information.

The bureau chief, who’d been complaining of exhaustion and frustration before the test, had spread a small sleeping bag in the corner of the bunker and fallen asleep. I’d heard she’d pulled all-nighters for days to complete the bomb, so I let her rest.

This experiment will go down in Kivotos explosive research history. Our names—mine and Kotone-senpai’s—will be etched in history forever.

Of course, that’s assuming, as I hope, that no incident large enough to warrant using this in Eden or beyond occurs. I absolutely don’t want this weapon used. The physical and political fallout would be immense.

Honestly, I’m not even sure where it could be used. Its power is such that a single detonation in the heart of the black market could cause near-total devastation.

It should absolutely be avoided in urban areas near the Tea Party. In the great forest, it could spark wildfires too severe for the fire brigade to handle, so we’d need to be even more cautious. When you start considering the constraints, there are so many.

But… there might come a time when it has to be used, right? The worst-case scenario I dread is going to war with Gehenna Academy and dropping it on the Pandemonium Society’s council chamber. I’d rather die than see that.

Its mere existence is a warning. A message: if you don’t want to get hit, behave.

Those who sit on a throne preaching humility must bear the responsibility that comes with it.

“…Senpai, could you not recycle lines from yesterday’s drama?”

“Haha, Sayuri-san. You’re a real pro at ruining the mood.”

That’s not a compliment.