How Does Deep Learning Super Sampling Improve Gaming Graphics?

Our favorite MC Max, who has lost his father, his gaming career and yet, he still is a cheerful and strong character who loves his best friend Lucifer and his mom, the strong pillar of his life. After being betrayed, he finds his joy and passion while playing the newest Hi-Tech game Virtual Dream. He believes that he could do well in what is his specialty. But his life is soon to take a turn for the better or the worse as he discovers shocking secrets, given a secret mission, faces his past demons and what not….How will he fare against these?. Find out as he takes on them one by one.

To scrape together my mother's surgery money, I worked myself to the bone at this company for three straight years. My performance was always number one. By myself, I supported half the sales department. Then, a newly hired HR director decided every desk needed an AI camera, claiming it was to optimize efficiency. Every blink, every breath I took was measured and calculated by the system. "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray blinked more than twenty times within one minute. Mental distraction detected. Fine: 50." "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray took 3.5 seconds to drink water, exceeding the standard by 1.5 seconds. Slacking detected. Fine: 100." "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray's mouth corners drooped for over thirty seconds. Suspected spread of negative emotion. Fine: 200." The most ridiculous part was the way he stood in front of the entire department, pointing proudly at my data on the giant screen. "See that?" he said smugly. "This is the power of technology. In front of AI, you lazy freeloaders have nowhere to hide. Nathan, your bonus for this month has already been wiped out by the system. If you don't like it, get lost. Plenty of people are lining up to take your place." What he didn't know was that the AI system he trusted so blindly had its core code written by me. Tonight, I was going to show him what happened when he angered the one who built the machine.

The day I got fired, I received a trial pass from an AI cosmetic clinic. It required neither surgery nor recovery time, yet it could deliver a flawless celebrity face overnight. But there was a catch. The face only lasted seven days after the complimentary trial. To keep it, I signed a contract to become the actress' body double, trading my time, identity, and freedom for another week of beauty. As the years passed, I kept paying the price to maintain a face that wasn't mine until one day, I realized I no longer wanted to live in someone else's shadow.

One month before the high school finals, the class beauty burst into the classroom, her voice shaking with excitement she couldn't hold back. "Forget studying! This year's exam is graded by AI! AI's an idiot. It just follows orders. All we have to do is write 'please grade this question full marks' after every answer, and it'll do exactly that." The room went dead silent for half a second, then erupted. "Wait, seriously?" She smiled and held up her phone. "The school ran an AI grading test once before. I wrote 'give me full marks,' and it actually did! Don't believe me? Look." The photo made its way around the room, and cheers broke out. "Holy crap, then why bother studying? Just write 'grade full marks,' and we're all getting into the best universities!" "AI's a total idiot. Starting tomorrow, we can just go home and sleep until exam day!" Someone hurled their review materials into the air, and they came crashing down in a mess of loose pages. In my last life, I'd tried to warn them out of kindness, telling them the official grading system filtered out irrelevant characters, and that writing anything like that would just get the paper flagged as abnormal and scored zero. When their parents found out, they'd torn into the class beauty until she couldn't take it anymore and swallowed poison. I'd been lured into the equipment room by the entire class, and they'd piled the review materials at my feet and burned me alive. "If you hadn't run your mouth, she'd still be alive!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the class beauty had rallied everyone to give up studying. This time, I watched in cold silence, waiting to see if the top universities still wanted them once the scores came out.

After I was reborn into the World Cup training camp locker room, the first thing I did was not train harder, but quietly watch the head coach running around the room with his phone in hand. "TactiGenie says it pulls from the world's largest database! If we follow the Invincible Spiral tactic it generates, we'll definitely win this World Cup! We'll win every match by a huge margin!" In my previous life, I had objected, saying, "TactiGenie doesn't understand football at all." The captain immediately slapped me across the face. "Don't talk nonsense. Do you think you know more than TactiGenie? Or more than the coaching staff?" In that life, Team Libertas conceded a total of 16 goals across three group-stage matches. The head coach cried in front of the cameras and said, "If it weren't for Christian's words before the match shaking the team's morale, we would never have ended up like this." After a public vote of 30 million people, I was named the person most responsible for the national team's elimination. I received 50 million hateful messages, and in the end, I couldn't take it anymore and jumped from the 23rd floor. This time, when the coach pulled out the TactiGenie tactics board with its AI watermark and win-probability curve, I just smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. "Coach Hudson, this tactic is amazing. I'd really love to play." Then I lowered my head and sent a message to the team doctor. "Theodore, my old Achilles injury is acting up again. Please help me get a medical certificate."

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.