Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System-Chapter 129: Records’s favorite

Chapter 129: Record’s Favorite

"You are the third abomination," Belzebuth said, his voice firm and certain.

He knew what that meant. The universe had legends about such beings—beings called Abominations.

They were entities whose power was so obscene, so boundless, that it defied all logic. Only the leaders of the major factions could possibly stand against them.

But even they wouldn’t dare.

Because being able to oppose them... wasn’t the same as surviving the attempt.

At their level, killing them was almost impossible. The smartest path was to avoid creating that kind of enemy altogether.

And now—to think that someone with the potential to become one of them was standing right in front of him?

Belzebuth could barely believe his luck.

’Is this... finally my opportunity?’

It had to be.

And he would seize it.

"You’re not even aware of it, but the entire universe already knows who you are." fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

Noah stared at him blankly.

’Is this guy playing dumb and crazy to make me spare him?’ he wondered.

"Did you get scared and decide to back out?"

"There’s no quitting now, father-in-law. So shut up and lie back down."

Belzebuth froze.

"Listen to—"

"If you say one more word, you’ll regret it."

Belzebuth immediately shut his mouth. He couldn’t afford to test Noah’s patience.

Noah sighed. He needed total concentration. What he was about to attempt was anything but easy.

Belzebuth rambling about anomalies and abominations? He had no time for that nonsense.

He closed his eyes, replaying Belzebuth’s earlier words in his mind.

’Talents are in the soul.’

He already knew that—he’d felt it when his own talents had begun to grow.

But he’d never stopped to really think about it.

’So if talents are part of the soul... that means, with enough soul manipulation, I could theoretically take someone else’s talent.’

’Then why didn’t Elira do it? Or... maybe she did—and never told me?’

[Host, stealing someone’s talent by interacting with their soul is far more difficult and dangerous than you think. A soul knows when someone it doesn’t recognize tries to take what’s inside it.]

[It will resist with everything it has. And if it senses it’s losing... it will self-destruct. That backlash can damage your soul—fatally. It’s an automatic response. So no, not just anyone can do this.]

Noah nodded slowly.

’So Zara’s mother must have a special talent that allows her to do it safely.’

[Most likely. And that kind of talent is extremely rare. Be careful—she might be far more dangerous than even Belzebuth realizes.]

Another nod.

Noah gathered his focus.

The task itself sounded simple—but the execution? That was another matter.

All he had to do was: enter Belzebuth’s soul, examine it, find the point where his talent was inscribed—and then take it.

Easier said than done.

"Don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t do anything," Noah instructed.

Belzebuth nodded in silence.

Noah turned to Zara. She nodded back at him reassuringly.

Haaaah...

He took a deep breath.

And then—his body shifted.

His form became wisps of smoke, his eyes fading into smoky tendrils, and his hair becoming a floating cluster of glowing white mist.

It was strange. Ethereal.

This was: Soul Embodiment.

His entire being transformed into a soul-state.

He reached out and touched Belzebuth’s chest—and immediately made contact with his soul.

Every soul was unique.

Noah’s own was a vast construct of condensed power—obscene, radiant, immeasurable.

Belzebuth’s soul, by contrast, was like a black void. A hollow darkness, devouring and endless.

A miniature version of Noah’s smoky form appeared inside it.

"Now then—"

His eyes glinted.

"Soul Search."

A ripple of soul-energy exploded outward, scanning Belzebuth’s entire soul in an instant.

Noah’s head turned sharply—he sensed something in the distance.

Then, he vanished.

He reappeared in a place so dark it felt like the void itself was alive—consuming everything, including his perception.

The moment he arrived, that darkness surged toward him, trying to devour him whole.

BOOM—!

The attack slammed against a glowing soul-barrier Noah conjured instantly.

He walked forward calmly, the darkness shattering against his defenses.

Minutes passed.

Then, he stopped.

To the naked eye, there was nothing in front of him. Just more endless dark.

But Noah could feel it—something was there.

The thing he was looking for.

"I’ve tolerated you long enough."

"Freeze."

A burst of divine ice spread out from him, freezing the entire void around him with zero resistance.

"Sever."

CRACK! CRACK!

The frozen veil shattered.

Before him appeared a strange, pulsing vein—dark, translucent, and inscribed with glowing black symbols.

Noah stared at it.

"Is that it?"

[Yes. That’s a Soul Vein—also known as a Talent Vein. Those inscriptions define the very essence of a talent.]

"So I have multiple of these inside me?"

[Correct.]

"How did you make them?"

[My methods are beyond your understanding. But know this—Talent Veins form when the soul essence condenses into a line, mixes with your origin blood, and becomes inscribed with the core of a talent—in a language only the Record understands.]

"How do you inscribe them? With what?"

[With a language. A special language... and with also your origin blood and your soul power. Combined.]

[That’s why it’s so dangerous. If you make a mistake—your origin blood and soul will both be damaged. You could end up crippled forever.]

"So... if I manage to extract this vein, I can steal his talent?"

[Yes.]

Noah examined the Talent Vein carefully.

But then—he noticed something.

Parts of the inscriptions... were missing.

Incomplete.

"So this is why he said his talent was broken."

He frowned.

Taking it as-is would mean inheriting a defective talent. That didn’t sit well with him.

"Why didn’t he try to fix it? Fill in the missing parts?"

[Because as I just said these inscriptions are written in a language that cannot be learned—only understood. The language of the Akashic Record.]

[You need to enter a soul, comprehend the inscriptions, and have the affinity to interpret them. Without that affinity, it’s impossible.]

[In a population of trillions—no, quadrillions—only one person may have that affinity. And most of the case it’s a low rank.]

[It’s called: Record Affinity.]

’Record Affinity? Never heard of it...’ Noah scowled.

"So I can’t copy this talent?"

[Not unless you have that affinity.]

"Tch. Then what now? Should I still take it and try completing it later if I ever managed to obtain the Record Affinity?"

"Can’t the Akashic Record just give it to me? I mean, it seems to like me."

[No—]

The system stopped mid-sentence.

Because at that moment—

The Akashic Record chimed.

{Your request has been heard, Noah Weaverheart.}

{Your request has been approved.}

A heavy silence fell.

Noah’s eyes widened in disbelief. ’Wait—what?! I was just joking!’

And it wasn’t over.

{DING! DING! DING! DING!}

{GLORIOUS!}

{You are a being the Akashic Record favors heavily.}

{An incredible achievement.}

{Title Received: Record’s Favorite.}

...Oh my lord.

—End of Chapter 129—