[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 82

The time when the red sunset and the moonrise align on the horizon.

Gazing at what people call the twilight, I tore off a piece of fried egg.

The greasy white, with an undercooked yolk spilling out, is a beautiful sight. Even after swallowing it several times, placing it on steaming rice with a piece of spicy kimchi creates an unmatched delight. What could be better than this delicacy?

After a long day of paperwork or, on some days, friction with Gehenna Academy students, a meal of freshly cooked rice and side dishes is perfect for relieving fatigue. No matter how you spin it, people live by the strength of their meals.

To the Ordnance Bureau chief sitting across from me, picking at the side dishes, this meal might feel a bit unfamiliar, but for me, it’s a lifeline of sorts.

“Captain… No matter how I think about it, I don’t understand why you called me here…”

Munch munch. “I have something to discuss. And, well, I thought we could eat together.”

“You need to tell me what it’s about.”

“Food comes first, so eat. It’s been minutes since you picked up your spoon, but you haven’t taken a bite, Senpai. What does that make me? I went out of my way to crack two eggs for this, but if you don’t eat, I can’t finish it all myself.”

Hearing my plea, Chief Kotone finally picked up her spoon after sitting for ten minutes. Thankfully, it seemed to suit her taste. She let out a small gasp of admiration and diligently ate. The fried egg I was worried about soon disappeared.

If I had my way, I’d take her to a fancy restaurant. Her achievements are no small feat.

But restaurants have too many prying eyes, making them unsuitable for sharing confidential matters. So, I settled on a private dinner for two students in the checkpoint headquarters office.

After a brief moment of chewing sounds, I got to the point.

“Chief Kotone—no, senpai. I like the people at the Ordnance Bureau. Even though we’ve only known each other for a few days, I respect their passion.”

“I didn’t know you thought that way. Thank you.”

“Yes. But I’m not satisfied with what you and they have achieved. I don’t think the Ordnance Bureau’s capabilities stop there. The thermobaric bomb… it’s incredibly powerful, but it’s hard to apply in wartime.”

The thermobaric bomb isn’t something to be judged lightly. A fireball spanning miles is more of a strategic obstacle than an asset. What if it’s detonated in the wrong place and causes friendly fire?

That’s why I’m looking for ways to make this weapon easier to use.

“And on that journey, I’ve found an answer. I think the Ordnance Bureau can make it happen. It might sound irresponsible, but since I can’t do it myself, I’m entrusting it to you, Senior.”

“You admit that’s irresponsible…”

“I have a conscience. I’m not some demon king from a subculture magazine, am I?”

Unlike Kotone-senpai, who might shout, “If only I had more time and budget…” like a scientist facing a demon king. But things are better for us—the border checkpoint has plenty of resources to spare.

“I want two things: either a fleet of aircraft capable of stably deploying the thermobaric bomb or a platform that can be deployed without requiring air superiority. Ideally, I’d like development completed before the Eden Treaty.”

“That all sounds unreasonable… I don’t know how high your expectations are, but the Ordnance Bureau has limits. The budget is the biggest constraint.”

The damn budget always gets in everyone’s way—it’s common sense.

But I came prepared with a perfect solution. The border checkpoint isn’t just hoarding tangible assets. It’s true that allocated yen are always tight, but with some tax-saving measures here and there… you’d be surprised how much money is left over.

What I’m saying is, even if cash is short now, we can use potential available resources. Stockpiling millions of 6.1-inch high-explosive shells was partly for situations like this.

“I deal with that problem a lot too. So, here’s the thing… How much do you need?”

“Huh? Oh, this is a check… Wait.”

And so, I, Yamatsu Hikari, slid a blank check to Kotone-senpai, who jumped in surprise.

“W-Wait… What? Captain, why is there no amount on the check…?”

“It’s rare to see you flustered, Senpai. Quite a sight. It’s a gift—use it freely. I’ll cover the cost.”

“I appreciate the budget support, but… if the Ordnance Bureau relies this much on the checkpoint, my reputation… What do I do?”

“It’s just a budget allocation, no big deal. You’ve shown your capabilities, so I’m trusting you to pull this off too. The border checkpoint is becoming the Ordnance Bureau’s patron.”

Kotone-senpai, half-ecstatic, half-embarrassed, twirled the blank check in her hands.

There’s a saying at Millennium Science School.

In an era not long past, when individual clubs chugged energy drinks to solve millennial problems, a student despaired when their coding site subscription was canceled for lack of a mere 500 yen.

If you ask how an irrelevant saying applies to an engineering school, I’d say there’s no difference between the students at Millennium manipulating holograms freely and those at Trinity’s Ordnance Bureau grinding away in a corner.

And I know the perfect solution for them. All time can be bought with money.

Complaining about excessive work? Double their wages.

Whining about insufficient budgets? Give them the supplementary funds they want!

Hand cash to scientists, and they’ll think about what to buy. But if a sponsor with a clear goal offers a bonus, they’ll flip their attitude and try to boost project efficiency by even a few percent.

From D.U.’s skyscraper-laden cities to Red Winter’s snow-covered autonomous district, distinguishing between vulgarity and refinement in our industrialized era is pointless. We’re destined to live within the framework of capitalism.

So, talented student, accept your miserable fate and find ways to exploit the shadows of this era. Seize the reins.

If a student’s gift is intellect, they should seek investment opportunities that recognize pearls in the rough seas. If they’re just a fraud with nothing but yen, they should find someone to invest in rather than hoarding capital and harming the economy.

The former is the Ordnance Bureau; the latter is the border checkpoint.

I’ve joined hands with the capitalism of this era.

“So, senpai, the money’s piling up.”

“I agree. Except for the part where your tongue got tied.”

***

[Kaiser Corporation Cedes Desert Land]

On the 19th, at noon, the Trinity General Academy Border Checkpoint announced a land purchase agreement with Kaiser Corporation.

Checkpoint Commander Yamatsu Hikari stated the deal opens possibilities for improving relations with Kaiser.

—Shiga Mitsuki, Chronos School Editorial Chief

“…Good job. It’s short but covers half the who-what-when-where-why-how. I think it’s great. Well done.”

Unlike typical Chronos School students, Mitsuki-san’s article was clear and factual, exactly to my liking. It’ll serve as a shield to prevent public suspicion about the land deal.

I promised to treat the journalist to a meal. You might ask if a reporter, who should strictly separate public and private matters, should accept food from an official. But Mitsuki-san chose to be the checkpoint’s dedicated reporter, and I’m just rewarding her.

Anyway, most students don’t care. These relationships exist everywhere—it’s just custom. Tell them to lose interest.

The Ordnance Bureau’s response to my blank check arrived the next morning. 28 billion yen.

…That’s half the checkpoint’s budget. Looks like we’ll have to delay the Caesar artillery unit’s overhaul.

Might as well sell off all the obsolete 4.1-inch shells too.

I heard from Sayuri-san that Kotone-senpai personally locked the Ordnance Bureau lab’s doors. It’s like when we went to Millennium Science School to save a dying Hipo-chan, and the engineering department pulled the fuse on the shoddy main gate.

I get it. Engineers with infinite budget attributes tend to hole up at home. Timid students like Kotone-senpai react strongly to external stimuli, cutting off access to prevent outbursts.

I’m not worried because students who act so unilaterally usually meet deadlines.

“Yeah, let’s meet then. It’s a solid article, so the Tea Party won’t have issues. Yep, take care.”

The image of a Trinity student asking a Chronos reporter to join her at a fancy Gehenna restaurant. I brushed it off.

How fortunate that our academy’s laws are so old. I heard that just before the student council president went missing, some anti-corruption law passed, nearly sparking a scandal when bribery across the defense department came to light.

My honorable alma mater has no such issues. The Justice Task Force takes down the Helmet Gang and mobsters wreaking havoc in the city, not sniffing out tangerine or red-bean jelly crates in shady alleys. Even the audit office students accept dinners.

You could say corruption is rampant, but compared to D.U. or the black market, our amounts are small.

“…” Alright, enough chatter.

Why have I been sitting at my office desk for nearly an hour? It’s time to face the issue in front of me.

To: Yamatsu Hikari, Trinity General Academy

From: Okusora Ayane, Abydos High School

“…Sigh.” I don’t even need to open it to know what it says.

I shouldn’t have bought that land.