Tyson felt something was off about his opponent.
As the referee called for both fighters, the second round began, tension crackling in the air.
Tyson couldn't afford to dwell on distractions; he took a few deep breaths to reset, focusing his mind on the fight and looking for any openings to exploit.
From the opening bell, Tyson surged forward, using the swinging gap created by the bend of his body to launch a powerful swing aimed at Henry's head.
Henry ducked just in time to evade, retaliating with a straight punch that cut through the space between them.
In that moment, Tyson switched to his defensive stance, his left hand guarding his chin as he avoided the punch and crashed into Henry, forcing him into a clinch.
Pressing his forehead against Henry's chest, Tyson determined not to give his opponent a moment's respite.
Then, in one fluid motion, he pulled back sharply. At the same time, he unleashed not one but two uppercuts—left and right—in rapid succession.
But Henry, anticipating the assault, managed to keep his fists close to his chin. Though he took the left uppercut flush, he deftly avoided the lower punch that followed.
Henry proved to be a formidable foe, quickly bouncing back from Tyson's assault and resorting to a tactical strategy of jabs and straight punches to control the distance between them.
They both exhibited their skills in the ring, with Henry's strategy providing a solid challenge.
As the second round neared its end, Tyson opted for a close-range approach again, ready to deliver a series of multidimensional punches.
In a blitz of movement, he unleashed a dizzying array of upper, middle, and lower hits—nine punches in mere seconds.
Henry found himself on the defensive, overwhelmed as Tyson's relentless offense found openings in his guard.
Just as Tyson planned to unleash an even greater flurry of punches, the bell to signal the end of the second round rang out.
Reluctantly, he backed off, giving Henry a brief moment to gather himself.
Though he took a few hard shots in those last seconds, Henry remained mentally sharp and robust in spirit.
From the corner, Kus, Tyson's coach, called out with fervor, "Mike, that was excellent! Your three-dimensional offense is causing him real trouble. Keep going, and he'll wind up like the others who've faced you."
But in his excitement, Kus coughed again, a harsh sound that cut through the noise of the crowd.
Teddy, who stood at ringside, quickly slapped his back and handed him a bottle of water.
Tyson's eyes remained glued to Henry, burning with determination.
As the third round began, Tyson launched into a fierce assault without hesitation.
His combination of powerful strikes left Henry scrambling, quickly tearing through any semblance of defense.
In a blur of motion, Tyson moved from one corner of the ring to another, landing blow after blow, each one hitting with heavy force.
Despite Henry's efforts to block the onslaught, he absorbed significant damage, and his footing began to falter.
He knew he couldn't afford to take many more hits. If he allowed Tyson to unleash his fury, it would all come to an end.
Summoning every ounce of focus, Henry decided to make his move.
Planting his feet solidly on the canvas, he spotted his opportunity and delivered a straight back fist, hoping to catch Tyson off guard.
But Tyson, fueled by the thrill of imminent victory, remained calm and collected. He could sense Henry's intention, predicting the punch before it even launched.
With a graceful shoulder roll, he eluded Henry's attack and positioned himself for a counter.
Realizing the danger he was in, Henry instinctively moved laterally to escape Tyson's wrath.
Tyson's legs were like springs, propelling him forward with precision. He executed a tight, precise swing aimed at Henry's chin—an angle so sharp it looked almost impossible.
Henry, moving quickly to avoid Tyson's attack, thought he'd outmaneuvered him, believing he had found a safe distance.
But that swing connected, striking him squarely on the chin at the very moment he let his guard down.
The impact was staggering, leaving Henry momentarily bewildered as he crumpled to the canvas, his world spinning.
"Tyson just ripped through Henry's defense! What a display of power! Henry is down on the canvas! The referee is calling the fight! 'The Beast' Mike Tyson is the new national champion!" the commentators howled with exhilaration, their voices drowning in the electric atmosphere.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy, cheers echoing throughout the arena.
True to his hallmark style, Tyson had fought aggressively and decisively, claiming victory in the National Glove Championship.
Kus threw his water bottle to the ground in sheer joy, quickly climbing into the ring to envelop Tyson in a tight embrace.
"Mike, we did it! We did it!" he shouted, his voice filled with unrestrained excitement, as if he were the one stepping into the ring.
Tyson lifted Kus in celebration, and the crowd roared as they witnessed the crowning of their new champion.
Lawson, the owner of the CKGF boxing club, could hardly contain himself. After seeing Tyson win, he jumped up, shouting to those around him, "Did you see that? Mike is the champion! He trained in my small gym, and now he's a champion at just 16! It's incredible—just like Ali…"
The heavyweight bout capped off the event in thrilling fashion, with other champions rising in celebration.
After a brief intermission, it was time for the awards ceremony.
The seven weight-class champions gathered at the podium, and Tyson's gaze fell on a familiar face among them—the light heavyweight champion of the National Golden Glove Championship: Evander Holyfield.
Holyfield stood tall, his physique impressively built, a confident smirk on his face that made Tyson's blood boil.
Recognizing him immediately, Tyson felt a surge of emotions wash over him.
His composure began to slip away, replaced by memories of their shared past—some bitter and some filled with the fire of rivalry.
In November 1996, during a critical WBA title fight, Holyfield had resorted to underhanded tactics that led to Tyson's downfall.
Even in their rematch, Holyfield exhibited similar moves, creating injuries that left Tyson reeling.
With that anger bubbling beneath the surface, Tyson could hardly restrain himself, thoughts racing in a whirlwind—the fight, the betrayal, and the desire for retribution.
At that moment, all he could feel was an overpowering urge to respond.