Suddenly, the burly double doors behind Hilsa were thrown open, and out came an equally huge Chinese man.
Abel felt like he was dreaming. Why did everything seem so out of character?
The top of the door frame was clearly close to eight feet tall, yet the man bent his head while passing through it.
Such a physical build wasn't something he associated with Asians; they generally had lean and athletic bodies, not... not this.
You don't see them in WWE that often, do you?
At this rate, he wasn't sure what he expected to find past those doors. Maybe Jackie Chan smoking a blunt, chatting away about his next trampoline stunt.
The man's eyes, which had been hostile when they landed on him, softened when Hilsa stopped playing with the pitbull and swung around to face him.
She broke into some rapid Chinese as she reached him and shook the Goliath's hand with a warm smile
