A solid wall of floor-to-ceiling mirrors projected my wide-eyed wariness back at me as I cautiously stepped onto the giant jigsaw puzzle of blue and black mats that covered the dojo floor. Four punching bags hung from the ceiling along the left-side wall of the large room, and several more bags clustered in the far corner on floor stands. Two of the floor-stand bags had the shape of actual men from the waist up, with scowls molded onto their rubber faces. I found it funny that a designer would go through the trouble of making a punching bag appear menacing.Above the bags, a wooden shelf stuffed with trophies of various sizes looked like a miniature city crammed with golden towers. I was about to take a closer look at their engravings when a glint of metal reflecting in the mirror captured my attention. Kim stood across the room staring at various sharp weapons mounted against the wall. My throat went dry. I didn’t like where this was going. “So this is your dojo?”He kept his focus on the weapons.
