Frieza walked over from outside the crowd, his footsteps making barely a sound as he stepped onto the ice. He did not look at Goku. He looked at Broly first, with the same eyes one might use for some worn-out thing that could be discarded at any moment.
Goku stepped forward without a word, placing himself between them.
"What?" Frieza gave a derisive laugh, the tip of his tail swaying lazily behind him. "Since when is it your place to interfere with my property?"
"Your property?" Goku did not get angry. He simply looked at him.
"What else?" Frieza spread his hands, his tone flippant. "I hold this dog's leash. If I tell him to sit, he does not dare stand. What, does Son Goku have an objection?"
Goku turned back and looked at Broly sitting on the ground, then at Paragus kneeling beside him, his shoulders trembling violently. He said three ordinary words.
"He is not a dog."
Paragus's entire body jolted.
For more than forty years, he himself had called his son things like "beast" and "wretch" often enough. Now, hearing an outsider's words—"He is not a dog"—come crashing down on him, the old man's eyes immediately reddened.
Frieza was amused instead. He tilted his head, the tip of his tail flicking upward behind him.
"Not a dog?" he laughed. "Then tell me, what is he?"
Goku ignored him. He turned toward Paragus, his tone as calm as if they were making casual conversation.
"You are afraid of him, and he is afraid of you," he said. "You two spent over forty years on Planet Vampa, seeing each other every day, yet neither of you ever had a proper conversation. When he went berserk, you shocked him. Afterward, you hid from him. Am I wrong?"
Those words struck