Reincarnated Jester: Taming Players - Chapter 51: Collecting Resources

The first time they met they had battled fiercely, just for a mere bunch of herbs. She needed it to save people, and he wanted to use it to save his own life.

“Let go of it, or you will die.” The man’s violet eyes were cold and sinister as he said in a low voice.

She held on tightly to the base of the herb and pulled its roots right out of the ground, before she turned her eyes back with a crafty smile. “It’s mine now. Snatch it from me if you can.”

When they met several years later they were no longer on opposing sides in hostility. In order to repay the debt for having stolen the herb back then, she went on to miraculously cure his body’s condition, relieving him of the inhumane torment that wrecked at his body day and night. He was amazed by the godly skills in Medicine she possessed and his heart went on to fall irrecoverably head over heels in love.

- Description from novelupdates

If she could use any three words to describe herself, Jiang Yue would say that she is rich, beautiful, and extremely smart. Unfortunately, she took these for granted in her past life, causing her downfall.

Kim Taejong once believed that death was the only true end—a final mercy.He was once a rising star in the game Rise of Legacy, hailed as the prodigy who would one day dominate esports.But at the peak of his career, a hand injury ruined everythingThe championship title he had spent his entire life chasing slipped away.Taejong blamed himself. The pain, the regret, the endless cycle of what-ifs—it was unbearable.So when an accident took his life, it felt like mercy.But death wasn’t the end.Taejong woke up in the body of Seunghoon—an unknown and struggling player who was desperately chasing the dream Taejong once had.But Seunghoon had neither the talent nor the skills. Just desperation and a working computer.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.