How Does Mordecai Use Bank Shots In Regular Show?

My mate, Noah, chose another woman while I was bleeding out with his unborn child. By the time he realized the truth, I was already gone. Sold to Alpha Mordecai — the Kingslayer feared across the north. They call him a monster. A ruthless madman drenched in blood. I should fear him, right? But what I fear is how easily he affects me. Because while Noah is desperate to get me back… Mordecai has no intention of letting me go.

The night before my wedding, I caught my fiance, Liam, in bed with my best friend. That really sucked. So, as revenge, I slept with Liam’s boss, Jethro.After getting pregnant with Jethro’s child, I coerced him into taking me as his wife. Alas, life as a trophy wife wasn’t as expected. I decided to call it quits, but Jethro squashed that thought and declared, “Serena Hart, you are mine. Forever.”

When my mother won a million dollars from a lottery ticket, she prepared an envelope for each of her three children. After we opened them, my younger brother and younger sister each found a bank card inside. But from my envelope, two 1-dollar coins clinked onto the floor. Seeing me freeze, a trace of unease flickered across Mother's face. "Cassian," she said hesitantly, "Logan and Sienna suffered a lot growing up because your father passed away so early. So I gave each of them 500 thousand dollars as compensation. "You're the eldest son—like a father to them. Don't fight with them over this, okay?" I glanced down at the faded down jacket I had worn for years, the fabric so worn that it had lost its color. Then, my eyes drifted to my younger brother's limited-edition sneakers and to the designer bag slung over my sister's shoulder. Mother seemed to have forgotten that when Father died, I had only been eight. I smiled faintly. "Alright. I won't fight them for it." Hearing this, Mother let out a long breath of relief. The next second, my voice turned cold. "Then I won't fight for the responsibility of supporting you in your old age either."

Since childhood, I've been able to see the exact amount of money in someone's bank account floating above their head. At the orphanage, I use this gift to pick adoptive parents who look shabby but actually have a billion dollars sitting in the bank. Unfortunately, I only get to enjoy the good life for a short time before the family's real daughter is brought home. She's furious that I've taken her place and makes it her mission to make my life miserable. In order to stay in school, I swallow every insult and endure her bullying. After finally graduating, I'm ready to walk away from this family forever. But the real daughter stops me. She's fuming as she says, "I thought my online boyfriend was a rich guy with a Ferrari, but it turns out he's just a broke loser who rides a rental bike. "If he latches onto me, it'll be a stain on my reputation for life. You go meet him for me. Tell him you're the one he's been dating online." I look in the direction she's pointing and see the man she's talking about. A broke nobody? But the bank balance hovering over his head has ten digits! I swallow hard, my heart racing as I grab the real daughter's arm in excitement. "Quick, tell me everything about your online relationship. I'll go meet him right now!"

I was born with an intellectual disability and congenital analgesia, the inability to feel pain. Since I was a child, I had been the human punching bag who took beatings meant for my younger sister. Whenever my sister was caught sneaking snacks, Mom would grab me by the hair and slam my head against the wall. Blood would run down my face from my head, yet I never made a sound. When my sister was caught cheating in an exam, Mom whipped me with a belt the entire afternoon. My skin split and my flesh torn, yet I could still manage a smile. Every time she saw me covered in injuries, my sister would throw her arms around me tightly and cry her eyes out. She would say she was wrong and promise never to misbehave again. Mom would be pleased at that, convinced she had disciplined us well. And so, for sixteen years, I had endured every punishment meant for my sister. Until the latest monthly exam, when my sister dropped a place in the rankings. Mom called her over as usual and, out of habit, she raised her hand toward me. The slap sent the back of my head crashing into the corner of a cabinet, and blood spilled across the floor. Through my fading consciousness, I saw Mom nodding in satisfaction and pulling my sister, who was wailing her heart out, to her feet. “There, there. Stop crying. You’ve had your punishment. Let’s go eat something nice and calm yourself.” Watching their retreating figures, my eyelids grew heavier by the second. It seemed to hurt a little this time. I’d better get well soon… After all, they’d need me again the next time my sister made another mistake.

I wake up one day to find that I've become the power bank of the whole dorm. When the percentage shown above my dorm mates' heads is low, they'll be tired, angry, and ill-tempered. My job is to help them recharge via all sorts of physical contact. If I don't do my part, my grumpy dorm mates will force me to charge them up anyway…