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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3385 | 2025-02-12 21:56:33 | 102.07 | 99% |
| 2320 | 2024-09-22 02:02:57 | 90.41 | 98% |
| 588 | 2024-05-05 08:18:19 | 86.10 | 96% |