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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2016 | 2024-04-28 16:07:34 | 113.30 | 98.5% |