Dimensional Merchant: Starting With 100 Stat Points-Chapter 133: Auto Defense

The one-armed adventurer charged first, madness in his eyes and blood soaking the front of his torn shirt.

He had gauntlets on, and the metal flared with mana, the air rising around him.

"Die!" he screamed, thrusting his remaining arm forward.

Blades of compressed wind shot out, sharp enough to cut through both cloth and flesh.

Wade twisted aside, the gusts slicing through a rack of fabric behind him and shredding it to ribbons. He could feel the sting as one grazed his cheek.

"Persistent," Wade muttered, tightening his grip on Toothpick.

The man launched another volley.

Wade ducked under the first wave and teleported forward, reappearing right in front of him.

He swung low, forcing the adventurer to stumble backwards, the impact cracking against his gauntlet as he tried to block.

A desperate, blind punch came at Wade’s face. He caught the wrist, slammed his knee into the man’s gut, and brought the hammer end of Toothpick crashing down across his temple.

The crunch of bone echoed through the room.

The one-armed man collapsed, twitching once before falling still. Wade touched the corpse, sending it into his inventory before the spreading pool of blood could stain the floor.

That left one.

Tripp.

He stood several paces away, calm where the others had been frantic. His sword rested loosely at his side, the faint shimmer of his Auto Defense aura rippling faintly around him like heat haze.

He tilted his head, lips curling into a faint smirk. "You’re better than I thought," he said.

Wade said nothing, just cleaned the blade of his axe against a discarded cloth, eyes fixed on him.

"You killed Ferris," Tripp continued, almost conversationally. "Good. He was an idiot anyway."

"Then you can join him," Wade said quietly.

Tripp chuckled. "Oh, I don’t think so. Go on, attack me."

He raised his free hand and tapped his chest. "Let’s see what happens when you hit me."

Wade stared at him for a moment, the air thick with tension.

Tripp’s grin widened, a challenge glinting in his pale eyes. "Come on, Barrett," he said softly. "Show me what you’ve got."

Wade surged forward in a blur. Toothpick came down in a heavy diagonal swing, the axe whistling through the air.

Tripp met it cleanly, steel clashing against steel. Sparks burst between them, the shock of the impact ringing through the shop.

He was fast, faster than Wade expected, and his stance seemed immovable, each step assured.

Wade twisted, using the hammer end for a follow-up strike, but Tripp pivoted on his heel and deflected the blow with the flat of his sword.

The force pushed him back a step, yet his expression didn’t waver.

"Not bad," Tripp said, his smirk returning.

Wade didn’t respond. He lunged again, feinting low, then bringing the axe up toward Tripp’s ribs.

Tripp sidestepped, parrying as if he had all the time in the world.

Their movements soon blurred together, with steel flashing, and boots grinding against the wooden floor.

For a brief moment, Wade had to admit it.

Tripp wasn’t like the others. His movements weren’t reckless. Instead, they were calculated, even trained.

They exchanged another flurry of blows. Wade’s strength pushed Tripp backward, but Tripp’s technique kept him alive.

Then Wade vanished.

He reappeared behind Tripp, Toothpick already in motion. The blade arced towards the man’s neck, aiming for a clean decapitation.

But before it could connect...

A ripple of light flared around Tripp’s body.

A translucent barrier snapped into place, solid as iron.

Clang!

The axe struck the invisible wall and bounced off with a violent jolt, the recoil running up Wade’s arms.

Tripp didn’t even turn around.

"That," he said, his voice calm but filled with smug amusement, "is Auto Defense."

He looked over his shoulder, grinning. "You’ll have to do better than that."

Wade took a step back, both brows raised.

Tripp laughed at the expression on his face.

"Come on. Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got," he jeered, spreading his arms wide as if daring Wade to try again.

Wade vanished.

He reappeared at Tripp’s side, swinging Toothpick.

The weapon met another burst of golden light.

Clang!

The impact reverberated through the air, the invisible barrier flashing into view for an instant before fading again.

Tripp didn’t even flinch.

"Come on, Barrett," he taunted, turning with that same infuriating smirk. "Try harder."

Wade disappeared again, reappearing at Tripp’s other side, then above him, then behind him, each strike perfectly timed.

Every hit met the same response. An automatic shimmer of light, the barrier flaring to life just in time to block.

Wade’s breathing grew heavier, and his swings faster, but the result remained the same. He teleported again, hammering from every direction.

But nothing worked.

Tripp’s shields triggered instantly, the energy glowing brighter with each impact. It was flawless. An unbreakable cycle of protection.

Finally, Wade staggered back, panting.

Tripp dusted off his sleeve as if brushing away ash. "You done?" he asked casually, eyes gleaming with amusement.

"You can’t touch me, Barrett. My Origin Skill is absolute. It reacts faster than you can think."

He tapped his chest with his sword hilt. "Doesn’t matter how strong you are, or how many tricks you’ve got. You’ll never get through it."

Then he chuckled, stepping forward, his grin widening. "You see? You could fight me all night, and I wouldn’t even need to lift a finger."

Wade’s breathing slowed, his mind searching for a way out.

He’d noticed it now. The pattern, the rhythm of the barrier’s activation.

The Auto Defense didn’t react to intent, it triggered at the moment of motion. The instant his weapon moved, the shield formed.

That meant there was only one way to break it.

He had to move faster than the shield could manifest.

Wade’s eyes narrowed. "Let’s test something," he muttered.

He lunged forward. Toothpick came down in a heavy vertical arc, clanging against the invisible barrier. Sparks of golden light scattered.

Tripp smirked, effortlessly parrying the recoil with his sword.

"Still not getting through, Barrett," he taunted.

But Wade wasn’t listening. He stepped back, hands tightening on Toothpick.

Fireburst.

Flames surged up his arms, but before they could detonate, he swallowed the heat, using Fire Conversion.

The mana burned through him like liquid fire, and the world slowed down for a fraction.

He moved again.

This time, faster.

Each swing carried heat and speed, his movements becoming a blur.

He attacked from every direction, teleporting, twisting, vanishing and reappearing, each strike landing within a fraction of a second of the last.

Tripp’s grin dimmed slightly. The Auto Defense kept activating, but the flashes of light were getting slower, delayed by fractions of a second.

Wade kept pushing.

Fireburst.

Absorb.

Fireburst.

Absorb.

Each cycle pumped his muscles full of borrowed energy, until he felt weightless, like fire itself coursed through his veins.

He moved again, so fast that even his afterimage lagged behind.

Toothpick cut through the air and the shield flared, but it was too late.

Blood sprayed.

Tripp stumbled back, his hand flying to his cheek. His fingers came away red.

He stared at the blood, eyes wide with disbelief. "You—" he choked out, voice trembling. "You actually hit me."

Wade straightened, his chest rising and falling.

"Guess your shield’s not as perfect as you thought," he said quietly.

Tripp’s grin vanished, replaced by raw, furious disbelief. He looked down at the blood again, his hand shaking.

The first crack had appeared in his confidence, and in his defense.

Flames erupted around Wade’s arm once more as he activated Fireburst, but he absorbed it instantly with Fire Conversion.

The surge of power filled him, his movements becoming even faster.

Tripp’s composure shattered. The confidence that once filled his eyes was gone, replaced by panic.

"Wait— Wade— hold on!" he stammered, backpedaling, trying to raise his sword defensively. "We can talk about this!"

Wade didn’t answer. He blurred forward, Toothpick flashing through the air.

The Auto Defense flared, blocking one strike, but only barely. The next came an instant later, then another, each one faster, hotter, and with more force behind it.

"Stop! Please—" Tripp tried again, his words breaking into a gasp as Wade appeared behind him, slashing across his back. Blood sprayed across the ruined shop wall.

"Too slow," Wade muttered.

He disappeared again, reappearing before Tripp’s desperate, terrified eyes.

And the final swing came down.

Shhk!

And Tripp’s head left his shoulders. It rolled once before coming to rest beside Wade.

For a long moment, Wade stood there, breathing hard.

Then, slowly, he smiled.

A small, satisfied grin spread across his face as he exhaled. "That," he murmured, "was actually fun."

His gaze drifted around the wrecked shop, noticing the overturned shelves, the bloodstains, and the ruined walls.

His grin slowly faded.

He’d gone too far to leave traces now.

"Well," he said softly, rolling his shoulders, "can’t leave a mess."

He sighed and began walking around the shop.

And with the help of his inventory, began erasing every piece of evidence that the five had ever been in the shop.