Day after I made the op, a more advanced model was released.
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Mike sat in his room alone, he tried to think about what was going through his mind. What had he done wrong? Was this man going to hurt him? Or kill him? What else did he have that he didn't deserve? He didn't have time to think about that right now. It wasn't going to matter. He felt the pressure build in him again, like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. That's what he could have done. He had an idea. Just think about someone else. But no, he had to think about him, about him right now.It kinda feels like it might be overfitted and is just spitting out training examples now.
"Where are you going?" he asked the man in his room. The man, obviously a stranger, wasn't saying much. The door had been slammed on his bedroom door.
"I just left," the man said. The man had a voice just as quiet as the door, and was dressed in a simple grey undershirt that had the words "H-i-r-g-h-i-l-e-s" written on the front.
"Who
