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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 16760 | 2025-05-30 05:58:59 | 74.03 | 96% |
| 11467 | 2025-03-28 11:29:09 | 88.90 | 98.7% |
| 10604 | 2025-03-12 02:07:32 | 83.24 | 97.3% |