Blore stood rigid - listening. He could hear sounds everywhere now, cracks, rustles, mysterious whispers - but his dogged, realistic brain knew them for what they were - the creations of his own heated imagination. And then suddenly he heard something that was not imagination. Footsteps, very soft, very cautious, but plainly audible to a man listening with all his ears as Blore was listening.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4089 | 2025-02-13 20:20:05 | 130.22 | 98% |
| 2113 | 2024-10-09 15:25:44 | 128.21 | 99% |