The CEO's Knight in Shining Armor - Chapter 22

Business tycoon Ji Lingchen swore not to take a wife. He didn’t even have scandals to his name.

Until one day, when a wife was forced upon him, Young Master Ji began a new chapter in his life!

Assistant Jiang: Young Master Ji, Madam trashed Zhang Manor. Ji Lingchen: Get more people to help her out. Assistant Jiang: Uhm…

Ji Lingchen: Wait, has she calmed down? Assistant Jiang: No. Ji Lingchen: Inform the board to start the project of acquiring Zhang Group!

Assistant Jiang: Young Master Ji, Madam beat up Young Master Wei, and now he’s hospitalized. Ji Lingchen: Has she had enough?

Assistant Jiang: Doesn’t seem like it. Ji Lingchen: Let her continue. One day, Ji Lingchen learned that Fang Xiaonuan had gotten into another fight. He slammed the table and got up.

“Fang Xiaonuan, are you asking for a beating?” Fang Xiaonuan retorted, “Darling, you’ve changed. You didn’t use to be this way…”

Ji Lingchen pointed to her protruding belly and said, “You were alone before this!”

To be fighting when she was seven months pregnant not only frightened her opponent, but she also scared the wits out of Ji Lingchen.

Yet, Fang Xiaonuan was feeling pleased that she managed to win without a fight!

Fang Xiaonuan’s anger subsided and she stared at Ji Lingchen with puppy dog eyes as if she had been badly bullied. “

You win. You rascal, can you wait until the little rascal is safely born before you go fighting again?”

In a survival game to select new Gods, mankind is summoned to another world filled with different races.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”

I was sixteen when the gods abandoned me.The Blessing Ritual was supposed to grant me power, a divine gift to carve my future. Instead, I received nothing. No abilities. No hope. Just another nameless soul left to rot in a world ruled by strength.Fine. If the gods wouldn’t bless me, I’d make my own power.For ten years, I clawed my way forward, experimenting with forces no human should touch. I pushed too far—and it killed me.Then I woke up.Sixteen again. Back at the Ritual. But this time, something changed.Time bends at my will. Blood moves when I command it.The gods still won’t acknowledge me, but it doesn’t matter. This world isn’t fair, and I’ve stopped playing by its rules. Faith and Chaos clash in my veins, and I will use them both.They wanted a Chosen Hero, someone to dance to their tune.Well, too bad for them—I’ll carve my own fate.