My CEO Daddy - Chapter 570 Dont Let Her Get Hurt

Su Aobai used to be a bad son. In the men’s slap in the face, he was a rich second generation who was outstanding in everything, but he lost his wits when he met the male protagonist. His family was wiped out, and the overbearing father was pissed to death; , he is the second generation of Xiu with excellent talent, the hero who was abolished because of a woman’s ridicule, and the woman retired the marriage. In the end, the hero came back once he got the opportunity, and destroyed his sect, and the father of the suzerain died…

Now, Su Aobai has become an old father, and has children who are as miserable as he was back then.

Su Aobai refused at first, and the system promised him that he would be rewarded if he raised the favorability of his children. After that, he became really popular.

Sure enough, what’s the point of being a son, the father is the most embarrassing

Tentative world:
World One: Educated Youth Dad (End)
World II: Prodigal Dad (End)
World 3: Foolish and Filial Man in Fu Baowen (End)
World IV: Redemption Text Dad (End)
World Five: Apocalyptic Trash Dad (End)
World Six: Ruanfan Men Don’t Be White-eyed Wolves (End)
World Seven: The National Husband of a Gold Digger (End)

Content tags: face slap system fast travel cool text
Search keywords: Protagonist: Su Aobai ┃ Supporting role: sons and daughters ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

How long can one ignore the voices in their head?Nine years. To Mark, that was the limit.For the majority of his life, Mark White has been fighting a constant battle for his sanity. The voices in his head pushed him toward madness one whisper at a time, and the music he used to ward against them was gradually losing its effects.As his mental state slowly deteriorated, Mark spent more of his time working on a game he had been developing and lamenting his lack of romantic experience.One night, the voices dealt him a powerful blow, bringing their battle to an end. To his surprise, Mark won the battle, but that came at a great cost.The voices might have disappeared, but a visual hallucination arrived to replace them, taking the form of a character from his game: Maids VS Apocalypse. Little did he know that the real apocalypse was already coming for him.

SLASH!(So this is death?!!)I, Elysia, found myself dead before even reaching the Demon King's lair, and our Hero Party was completely annihilated.And this was done by none other than a fellow human—my former classmate.He had been mostly invisible during our time at the academy, but then he started committing one crime after another until he became a lackey of the Demon King.Who would have thought that the strongest party of humanity would be wiped out by humanity’s traitors?(If I could go back to the past, I swear I will kill you!)Just when I thought I could finally pass on, I opened my eyes.Five years back, when I first enrolled at Arcadia Academy.And there he was, the traitorous bastard of humanity...****“Huh? Where am I?”One day, I opened my eyes to find myself in an unfamiliar place and came to realize this was the world within the novel Savior's Dawn that I had read.Everything seemed to be proceeding the same as in the novel—except for one thing.The main heroine is glaring at me as though she wants to kill me.Could I survive with the main heroine after my life?

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.”