"I believe you, dude," Kevin says. "But hey, now you don't gotta."

Hopefully. Ideally. They might get attacked by a hallway vending machine or a decorative fake plant next for all Kevin knows.

"I have kinda recently been finding my beating-stuff-up skills are maybe way less good than I thought, but I am also like. Not very big. You're a centaur, right?"

The coast seems clear for now, he can afford to ask the burning (if obvious) question.