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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 21821 | 2025-01-05 05:59:07 | 102.64 | 96.5% |
| 16131 | 2024-06-16 03:11:46 | 107.71 | 98.4% |