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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 13549 | 2025-09-27 06:34:45 | 168.88 | 99% |
| 10341 | 2024-10-10 22:28:53 | 187.64 | 99.8% |
| 9093 | 2024-03-09 00:25:36 | 165.21 | 98.7% |