Miyoo Mini Plus 2026: 25,000 Games, One PS1 Wall

There is no game called Miyoo Mini Plus Game List. What you are actually buying, when you type those four words into a search bar, is a proposition: a roughly $53 slab of vertical plastic and a microSD card that some reseller has stuffed with somewhere between eleven thousand and twenty-eight thousand ROM files. The device is real hardware. The game list is a marketing object. This review treats it the way it deserves to be treated, as a library with a curator who was paid by the gigabyte and not by the hour.

So we will do two things at once. We will review the Miyoo Mini Plus as the 2026 sub-$70 handheld that half a dozen outlets still call the best small one you can buy, and we will review the list, the sprawling, duplicated, copyright-agnostic pile of games that ships on the card, as the thing that actually decides whether you enjoy the device or spend a weekend deleting folders. The short version: the hardware knows exactly what it is, the good half of the list is genuinely wonderful, and the other half is a browsing tax you pay in thumb-swipes. The score is a 7.5, and every point it loses, it loses to padding, to silence about copyright, and to a wall marked PlayStation.

The Number Is a Lie

Before a single frame of Symphony of the Night renders, you have to get past the marketing, because the marketing is where most buyers go wrong. The count on the box is not a measure of value. It is a measure of how brazen the seller is willing to be.

25,000 games, and zero of them from Miyoo

Start here, because everything else follows. Miyoo does not ship you 25,000 games. Miyoo ships you firmware and an empty, or nearly empty, card. Every eye-watering count you have seen is the invention of a third party who imaged a microSD and wrote a number on the product page: 13,056 on one tier, 25,966 on the next, 27,549 on the largest, a round 28,000 on a 128GB listing, and a suspicious 11,000 on a $25 Amazon special that is not a real Miyoo at all. None of these numbers is a specification. Each is a description of how much infringing content a stranger decided to include, and the count correlates with playable value about as well as a phone book correlates with good conversation.

Peel a padded card apart and you find the truth of it: duplicate dumps of the same game under three filenames, region variants stacked as if Sonic (USA), Sonic (Europe) and Sonic (Japan) were three different titles, thousands of unlicensed Famicom bootlegs and pirate multicarts, romhacks nobody asked for, and entire folders for consoles this chip physically cannot run. A DS folder on a Miyoo Mini Plus is not a feature. It is a folder full of files that will never boot, sitting there to make the number bigger.

Why the count goes up as the value goes down

Here is the tell nobody prints on the box: the more games a listing brags about, the more it tends to charge, and the worse the curation usually is. The 109.90 EUR European storefront promising 25,000 games is not selling you a better Miyoo than the 55.99 GBP bare unit from the UK store. It is selling you the exact same SigmaStar chip with a pre-imaged card and roughly a 100 percent markup for the labor of dragging folders you could drag yourself in twenty minutes. You are paying a premium to receive a mess. The honest transaction is the opposite: buy the device bare, wipe whatever card comes with it, and build the library you actually want.

This is not a fringe opinion. It is the through-line of every serious 2026 write-up, which is why they spend their word counts on emulator behavior and firmware and barely mention the headline number at all. The reviewers who know the device treat the pre-loaded pile as noise. So should you.

The honest question: what actually plays?

Strip the number away and the real review question appears. Of everything a Mini Plus can run, what runs well enough that you will genuinely play it on a 3.5-inch screen, with a d-pad, and no analog stick? That list is not 25,000 long. It is, generously, a few hundred titles deep and about seven console families wide. It is also, and this is the part the resellers stumble into by accident, one of the most joyful few hundred games ever assembled: the complete 8-bit and 16-bit canon, the arcade and Neo Geo greats, the Game Boy line entire, and a fat slice of the PlayStation library. That is the product. Everything past it is scroll.

The Hardware Is the Ceiling

You cannot review a game list without reviewing the machine that draws it, because the machine is what turns a filename into a playable game or an unplayable slideshow. And with the Mini Plus, the machine is defined by a single chip that has not changed in years.

One SoC, one wall

The Miyoo Mini Plus runs on a SigmaStar SSD202D: a dual-core ARM Cortex-A7 clocked at 1.2GHz, 128MB of DDR3, 16MB of SPI ROM, and a GPU that does 2D and only 2D. There is no 3D acceleration on this part. Everything the device does past the 2D era, it does on those two little CPU cores in software, and that is precisely why PlayStation 1 is the ceiling and why everything above it is a compromise or a joke. It is worth saying plainly, because the resellers will not: this is the identical SoC used in the original Miyoo Mini. The Plus is not a performance upgrade over its ancestor. It is an ergonomic one, a fact we cover in detail in our Mini versus Mini Plus breakdown. Same wall, bigger screen.

The retailer DROIX, reviewing the device, put the RAM situation charitably and correctly: the Miyoo only has 128MB RAM, but in most cases this is all you need. That is exactly right for the library it is built to run. 128MB is plenty for a Game Boy or a Genesis. It is nothing at all for a Nintendo DS, which is one reason the DS folder is a lie.

The screen, the battery, and the missing ports

The panel is a 3.5-inch IPS display at 640x480 in a native 4:3 ratio, which is not an accident. That aspect ratio is the correct shape for almost everything from the NES to the PlayStation, so 8-bit and 16-bit games fill the glass without the pillarboxing you fight on a 16:9 handheld. The battery is a 3000mAh cell, and unlike the marketing counts, the real figure here is honest: Playhouse measured 6 to 8 hours of mixed use with the screen at 50 percent brightness, which matches my own experience of a device that comfortably survives a transatlantic flight of Game Boy and SNES.

What it does not have matters as much as what it does. There is 2.4GHz Wi-Fi, and that is the entire wireless story: no Bluetooth, no HDMI out, no video output of any kind. Charging is USB-C. There is no analog stick, no second stick, no shoulder-button luxury beyond the basics, and critically, no link cable and no second-controller support. Hold those absences in mind. They decide entire genres later.

OnionOS: the real reason the list works

Stock Miyoo firmware is functional and forgettable. OnionOS, the community firmware, is the reason anyone still recommends this device in 2026, and it is the reason the game list is browsable rather than a chore. Onion ships its own build of RetroArch with a custom display driver, box-art scraping over that 2.4GHz Wi-Fi, automatic save-and-resume, and a menu that treats hundreds of games as a library rather than a file dump. Retro Handheld HQ did not hedge on this: OnionOS transforms this device, they wrote, calling it the single biggest reason this handheld stays relevant in 2026. A March 2026 review said the firmware makes the whole software experience feel genuinely cared for, and a February 2026 write-up argued that with Onion installed the little Miyoo still rivals far pricier brands. You install it from the base firmware version 202305052130 or newer, the current build is v4.2.3, and the canonical firmware and instructions live on the Lomiyoo firmware page. Do this first. Then talk about games.

Every Console, Ranked

Here is the part a game-list review actually owes you: a per-console verdict, because on this hardware the console you are emulating matters far more than the individual title. A bad SNES game runs perfectly. A good N64 game barely runs at all.

How to read the folder tags

OnionOS sorts everything under a /Roms directory using short tags, and once you know them, the card stops being mysterious. Drop a .sfc into SFC, a .gba into GBA, a .chd into PS, and the frontend does the rest. This is what a sane, human-curated card looks like, stripped of the reseller padding:

/Roms
  |-- FC/       # NES / Famicom        -> FCEUmm / Nestopia
  |-- SFC/      # Super Nintendo        -> Snes9x
  |-- GB/       # Game Boy              -> Gambatte
  |-- GBC/      # Game Boy Color        -> Gambatte
  |-- GBA/      # Game Boy Advance      -> mGBA
  |-- MD/       # Genesis / Mega Drive  -> Genesis Plus GX
  |-- MS/       # Master System         -> Genesis Plus GX
  |-- PCE/      # PC Engine / TG-16     -> Beetle PCE
  |-- NEOGEO/   # Neo Geo (needs BIOS)  -> FBNeo
  |-- ARCADE/   # CPS1 / CPS2 / MAME    -> FBNeo / MAME2003+
  |-- WS/       # WonderSwan            -> Beetle Cygne
  `-- PS/       # PlayStation 1         -> PCSX ReARMed

Notice what is absent. There is no sane folder for N64, Dreamcast or DS, because a sane curator does not put them there. If your reseller card has them, that is your first delete.

The full capability table

Ranked by how the console actually behaves on the SSD202D, not by how the box art looks. Excellent means full speed with no thought required; the ceiling means it works but you will feel the chip straining; unsupported means there is no working core and never will be.

What a sane card actually holds

Fifteen rows, and the value collapses into the top twelve. That is the whole product. A good Mini Plus card is not 25,000 files; it is a few hundred hand-picked games across those top families, plus a PS1 folder you built deliberately. If you own the cartridges, you can even make the library legally clean by dumping your own, which is less exotic than it sounds; our Retrode2 cartridge-dumping walkthrough gets a SNES cart onto an SD card in about twenty minutes. Do that, and the moral and legal fog around the reseller pile lifts entirely.

The Core That Earns It

This is where the money is justified. Forget the padding; the reason the Mini Plus is still recommended in 2026 is that the 8-bit through arcade canon runs flawlessly on it, and the 2026 emulation guides agree: Game Boy, GBC, GBA, NES, Master System, SNES and Genesis are all rated, in plain text, as excellent.

Nintendo's handheld line, done right

The Game Boy family is the device's spiritual home. On Gambatte and mGBA the entire portable Nintendo canon runs at full speed and, on a 640x480 panel with integer scaling, looks sharper than it ever did on the original dot-matrix glass. This is where you live: the Pokemon games, the Zelda handheld entries, Tetris, Kirby, the Super Mario portables, Metroid, Advance Wars. One honest caveat: Pokemon without link-cable trading is Pokemon with a ceiling, because there is no second device and no local link, so a solo-completable Pokedex is off the table. The games play perfectly. The metagame around them does not exist here.

A word on Tetris, because The Machine reads the docket as well as the manual: the Game Boy Tetris is one of the most litigated titles in the medium's history, its rights a decades-long tangle that Wikipedia documents at length. It is also, on this handheld, the single most perfect fit imaginable: monochrome-simple, d-pad-native, endlessly resumable via save states. Provenance aside, it is the reference implementation of pick-up-and-play.

The 8-bit and 16-bit consoles

The home-console side is just as strong. On NES you get the run-and-gun and platformer bedrock, Super Mario Bros., Contra, Mega Man, Gradius, all pixel-perfect. On SNES, Snes9x carries the crown jewels: Super Mario World, Street Fighter II, and Chrono Trigger, the 1995 Squaresoft RPG built by the so-called Dream Team of Hironobu Sakaguchi, Yuji Horii and Dragon Quest artist Akira Toriyama, whose reputation as one of the finest 16-bit games ever made is thoroughly earned. The lone SNES asterisk is the Super FX chip: Star Fox and its kin lean on custom cartridge silicon that Snes9x has to emulate on top of the CPU, and on two 1.2GHz cores they stutter. Everything without a coprocessor is flawless.

Sega's side of the aisle is equally comfortable through Genesis Plus GX: Sonic, Streets of Rage, Gunstar Heroes, plus the Master System's tidy 8-bit catalogue. Gunstar Heroes, Treasure's 1993 run-and-gun debut, is exactly the sort of dense, sprite-heavy spectacle this screen was built to show off; Hardcore Gaming 101's deep-dive makes the case for it as a genre high-water mark, and the Mini Plus renders every explosion of it without breaking a sweat.

Arcade and Neo Geo

The arcade folder is a genuine highlight, provided you respect two rules. First, the romsets are version-fussy: FBNeo and MAME2003+ each expect specific romset revisions, and a mismatch is the single most common reason a listed arcade game refuses to boot. Second, Neo Geo needs its BIOS file, the notorious neogeo.zip, present alongside the games or nothing in the folder will start. Clear those hurdles and CPS-1, CPS-2 and the Neo Geo library are a delight: Metal Slug, The King of Fighters, Samurai Shodown, Street Fighter. SNK's Metal Slug in particular is a showcase, its hand-animated spritework catalogued lovingly by HG101, and it is arguably the best-looking thing you can put on this display. These are 2D games running on a 2D chip. They are home.

How the run-and-guns compare

To make the point concrete, here is one genre, the 2D action and run-and-gun canon, across five of the list's finest, judged on the two things that matter on this specific device: how the pixels fit that 4:3 panel, and whether the co-op the game was designed around survives on hardware with no second controller.

Five reference-class action games, five perfect single-player experiences, and five reminders that the second player these games assumed simply cannot exist on this handheld. Hold that thought until the co-op scenario below.

The PS1 Crown and Ceiling

PlayStation is both the crown jewel of the Miyoo library and the exact point where the hardware runs out of road. It is the most impressive thing the device does and the clearest demonstration of its limits, sometimes within the same game.

What runs, and what runs beautifully

PS1 emulation on the Mini Plus goes through PCSX ReARMed, and the roster of reliably playable titles is long and serious. The 2026 guides name them without much hedging: Final Fantasy VII, VIII and IX; the Crash Bandicoot trilogy; the Spyro trilogy; Metal Gear Solid; Castlevania: Symphony of the Night; Tekken 3; Gran Turismo 1 and 2; Resident Evil 1 and 2; Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 1 and 2; Wipeout; and Ridge Racer. The sweet spot, the game to hand a skeptic, is Symphony of the Night: Koji Igarashi's 1997 Castlevania is a 2D masterpiece rendered on 32-bit hardware, which means it sidesteps the polygon load that troubles the chip and instead delivers the exact kind of sprite work this screen adores. It is widely regarded as one of the greatest games of its era, and on a Mini Plus it is flawless. If you buy the device for one game, buy it for this one.

A legal aside, because The Machine keeps the reporter's notebook next to the statute book: the emulator is not the crime. When Sony tried to kill PlayStation emulation on PC, the Ninth Circuit in Sony Computer Entertainment v. Connectix (2000) held that reverse-engineering the console BIOS to build a compatible emulator was fair use. Emulators are legal. What is not legal is distributing Sony's copyrighted BIOS and the copyrighted game images, which is precisely the pile a reseller hands you. PCSX ReARMed can lean on a high-level BIOS to sidestep the first problem; the ROMs remain your responsibility. The PlayStation's library is glorious and its legal status on a stranger's SD card is a fog, and pretending otherwise is what the resellers do.

Where FF7 shows the seams

Now the ceiling. Final Fantasy VII is listed as playable, and it is, but it is also the game that shows you the chip flexing. The pre-rendered field screens and the busier 3D battles can flicker or dip, because two Cortex-A7 cores emulating a PlayStation are working at the very top of their envelope. It is entirely finishable, and I have finished it here, but nobody would mistake the experience for a PS Classic. The other structural problem is physical: the Mini Plus has no analog stick. That is a mild annoyance in a turn-based RPG and a genuine handicap in Gran Turismo 2, where analog throttle and steering are the entire point, or in anything that wants twin-stick or fine analog camera control. The PS1 folder is a treasure. It is also the folder where you feel every one of the SSD202D's limitations, a subject we push on further in our dedicated look at the Mini Plus PS1 ceiling.

The flagship games table

Twelve titles that define what the list is and where it breaks, with the columns a buyer actually needs: what era it comes from, roughly how much card it eats, whether it is still legally sold anywhere, how it handles on a d-pad, and the verdict on this exact chip.

The Slideshow Folders

Now the folders the resellers include to inflate the count and the reviewers quietly warn you about. Everything above PlayStation on this device ranges from a fussy special case to an outright lie. Playhouse said it in one line: N64 and Dreamcast are hit-and-miss. PSP is not recommended.

Nintendo 64: three games, with tweaks

N64 is not a folder, it is a science project. The 2026 guides are specific about the ceiling here: light titles such as Super Mario 64, Mario Kart 64 and GoldenEye can be coaxed into playable shape with per-game tweaks, frameskip and patience. The moment you reach for anything demanding, Majora's Mask, Banjo-Kazooie, Donkey Kong 64, the device folds; those are explicitly flagged as not ideal, which is polite for unplayable. And even the three that run collide with the missing analog stick, because the N64 was the console that made the analog stick mandatory. If N64 is your goal, this is the wrong machine, and our Retroid Pocket buyer's guide points at hardware that actually clears that bar.

Dreamcast: light games and a warm chip

Dreamcast is the same story one console further out. The guides classify it as light games territory only, naming Sonic Adventure, Crazy Taxi and Power Stone as the sort of thing you might get running. Even those ask a lot of two 1.2GHz cores with no 3D silicon underneath them, and you will feel the chip warm through the shell for your trouble. Treat any Dreamcast success on a Mini Plus as a party trick, not a use case. It is not what you bought the thing for.

Nintendo DS: no core, no dice

This one is not a matter of tweaking or patience. There is no working DS core for this hardware, full stop. The dual screens, the touch input and the 3D all demand resources the SSD202D does not have, and no amount of settings will conjure a core that does not exist. So when a reseller card advertises DS games, understand exactly what you are looking at: folders of files that will never boot, padding the count toward a bigger number on the listing. It is the single cleanest tell that a game list was assembled to impress a search engine rather than a player.

The Library vs Rivals

A library is only as good as its alternatives, and in 2026 the Mini Plus has three kinds of rival: its own ancestor, the beefier budget crowd, and the genuine step-up tier. The list looks different against each.

Against its own ancestor

The original Miyoo Mini runs the identical SSD202D, so its playable library is byte-for-byte the same as the Plus: same PS1 ceiling, same excellent 8-bit through arcade core, same DS-shaped hole. The Plus differs only in the shell around that library, a larger 3.5-inch screen against 2.8 inches, a 3000mAh battery against 1900 to 2000mAh, and the addition of Wi-Fi for box-art scraping and clock sync. Since the original Mini is largely discontinued for new purchase in 2026, this is a mostly academic comparison, but the lesson is worth stating: nobody should pay a premium for the Plus expecting more games. You are paying for a nicer way to hold the same list.

Against the H700 crowd

The Anbernic RG35XX Plus and its Allwinner H700 siblings are the real competition, and on paper they win the spec sheet outright: a quad-core Cortex-A53 with a Mali-G31 GPU, 1GB of RAM, HDMI out, Bluetooth, and a library that genuinely reaches into selective Dreamcast, N64 and PSP. DROIX put the hardware gap bluntly: the H700 processor with GPU runs faster than the Miyoo processor. So why does the Miyoo still get recommended? Two reasons. Its 4:3 screen is a better shape for the 8-bit and 16-bit majority of any retro library, and OnionOS remains more polished than most of the competition's stock firmware. The RG35XX plays more; the Miyoo plays the core canon more pleasantly. That is a real trade, not a rout.

Against the step-up

Above both sits the modern Retroid Pocket tier, at roughly 200 dollars and up, with an actual GPU and enough muscle for GameCube and PlayStation 2. That is a different product for a different budget: three to four times the price for two more console generations of headroom. If your dream library has any 3D-era ambition, that is the tier to shop, and it is why we keep the Retroid rankings handy. But if your library ends, as most retro libraries honestly do, somewhere around the PlayStation, you are paying triple for headroom you will not use. The Miyoo's argument is that the list most people actually want fits under its ceiling.

Five Ways It Plays

Specs are theory. Here is how the game list behaves for five different kinds of player, because the same card is a triumph for one of them and a frustration for another.

The casual and the completionist

For the casual player, the one who wants ten minutes of Super Mario World on the sofa, this is close to the ideal machine. OnionOS resumes exactly where you left off, the battery lasts a week of short sessions, and the top of the library is bottomless. GamesRadar's reviewer captured the mood precisely: I used to insist nothing beat the real deal, but now nothing beats curling up with the Miyoo Mini Plus handheld and my favorite retro games. For the completionist, it is more mixed. Save states make 100-percenting a Genesis platformer trivial, but two structural walls appear: the missing analog stick complicates PS1 completion runs, and the absent link cable makes a full Pokemon Pokedex impossible on a single unit. You can finish the games. You cannot always finish the metagames.

The speedrunner and the co-op problem

For the speedrunner, the Mini Plus is a practice toy, not a competition device. Save states and rewind make it a superb place to drill a route or learn a boss pattern, but emulator timing is not console-accurate, there is measurable input latency versus original hardware, and no serious leaderboard will accept a run recorded here. Practice on the Miyoo, verify on the metal. For the co-op player, the news is worse and it is the device's single biggest genre-level failure. Every one of those glorious two-player games, Streets of Rage 2, Contra, Metal Slug, the fighting-game catalogue, was built around a second player who cannot physically join. There is no second controller support, no Bluetooth pad, no local link. The co-op library is a solo library on this hardware, and no firmware fixes a missing port.

The commuter

For the mobile and commuter player, this is where the Mini Plus is arguably unbeatable, and it is the use case the whole design is bent toward. It is a deck-of-cards object at around 121 grams that vanishes into a jacket pocket, the 6-to-8-hour battery clears any commute or flight, and it needs no internet once the card is built, so airplane mode is irrelevant to it. Playhouse called it the sweet spot for sub-100-pound retro handhelds in 2026, and portability is the axis on which it earns that. If your retro gaming happens on trains and in waiting rooms, the list in your pocket is the entire argument for the device.

Pricing and the Clone Trap

Nowhere does the game list distort reality more than at the checkout, where the size of the advertised library and the price move in the wrong direction together. Here is the chaos, tabulated.

The price chaos, tabulated

The $25 clone that isn't a Miyoo

Look hard at that last row. A 128GB Miyoo Mini Plus loaded with 11,000 games for 25 dollars is not a bargain; it is a category error. Genuine Mini Plus hardware does not exist at that price, and a listing that pairs a rock-bottom figure with a big round game count is the signature of a clone: lookalike shells running some knockoff board and firmware, sold to people who searched for a game list and did not check the seller. A February 2026 review found the real device at an unbeatable 53-dollar price point, and that is roughly the true floor. Anything dramatically below it is a different, worse product wearing Miyoo's face.

What to actually pay

The honest target is 53 to 65 dollars, or 55 to 60 pounds, for the bare device. Buy from Miyoo's own storefronts or a reputable handheld retailer, ignore the game-count listings entirely, and treat any pre-loaded card as something to wipe and rebuild rather than something to pay extra for. You are buying a SigmaStar SSD202D and a very good screen. The library is yours to assemble, and assembling it yourself is both cheaper and cleaner than paying a reseller a 50-euro premium to drag folders on your behalf.

Who Should Buy It

The game list makes sense for a specific person and a nuisance for another. Here is who should reach for it and who should look elsewhere.

Buy it if

• Your retro library genuinely ends around the PlayStation, and the 8-bit through arcade canon is the bulk of what you love.
• You want the most pocketable option that exists, and portability outranks raw power on your list of priorities.
• You are willing to install OnionOS and, ideally, build your own curated card of a few hundred games rather than trusting a reseller's pile.
• You value a native 4:3 screen for the eras that actually fill it, over a 16:9 panel that pillarboxes most of your library.
• You want a superb second device, a sofa-and-commute machine to sit beside a more powerful handheld or a PC.

Skip it if

• You want N64, Dreamcast, PSP or DS as a real, everyday part of your library rather than a folder of frustrations.
• Local co-op or multiplayer matters to you, because there is no second controller and no link support.
• You need analog-stick control for 3D platformers, racers or twin-stick shooters.
• You want HDMI output to a television, which this device simply does not have.
• You would rather pay once for headroom, in which case the step-up Retroid tier is the smarter money.

The legality footnote

The Machine will not pretend the fog is not there. The emulators are legal, settled by Sony v. Connectix a quarter-century ago, but the ROMs and BIOS files on a reseller's card are, for the overwhelming majority of buyers, copies of works nobody in the transaction owns. The clean path is to dump cartridges and discs you actually own, a genuinely approachable task, and to lean on the preservation and legal history that writers like the Digital Antiquarian have chronicled to understand what is at stake and why it matters. Buy the device, wipe the card, and build a library you can defend. That is not just the ethical route; it is the one that produces a better, leaner, faster list than any 25,000-file pile a stranger imaged for you.

Pros, Cons, Verdict

Add it all up and the Miyoo Mini Plus game list is a story of a brilliant core wrapped in dishonest packaging. The device deserves its reputation. The number on the box deserves none of it.

Pros

• The 8-bit through arcade and Neo Geo core runs flawlessly, one of the best few-hundred-game libraries ever assembled.
• OnionOS is genuinely excellent and turns a file dump into a browsable, resumable library.
• A native 4:3, 640x480 screen that is the correct shape for the eras that matter most.
• Real 6-to-8-hour battery and a truly pocketable, ~121g deck-of-cards form factor.
• PlayStation 1 support is broad and, for 2D-on-32-bit games like Symphony of the Night, superb.
• Honest street price around $53 to $65 for a device that punches far above it.

Cons

• The advertised game counts are reseller padding, not spec, and correlate poorly with playable value.
• A hard PS1 ceiling: N64 and Dreamcast are marginal, and DS is flat-out unsupported.
• No analog stick, which handicaps 3D platformers and racers even within the PS1 library.
• No local co-op, no second controller, no link cable: multiplayer classics are solo-only here.
• No HDMI and no Bluetooth, so no TV output and no wireless audio or pads.
• The copyright status of any pre-loaded card is a fog the sellers never acknowledge.

The score: 7.5 out of 10

The Miyoo Mini Plus game list earns a 7.5 out of 10. The curated core, the part that actually plays, is a 9: a near-perfect distillation of everything great about 8-bit, 16-bit, arcade and 2D PlayStation gaming in a device you can forget is in your pocket. It loses a point and a half to the padding, the copyright silence, the missing analog stick and co-op, and the PS1 wall that the marketing pretends is not there. This tracks with the wider 2026 consensus: a July review scored it 7.3 and still called it worth it, Handheld Picker said it remains one of the easiest retro handhelds to recommend because it knows exactly what it is, and Retro Handheld HQ named it the most polished sub-70-dollar emulation handheld you can buy in 2026. The right verdict is theirs, sharpened: buy the hardware, ignore the number, wipe the card, and build the couple-hundred-game list that this genuinely lovely little machine was born to run. For a deeper drill into that curated core and the ceiling above it, our companion piece on the 28,000-games claim and the PS1 ceiling takes the argument the rest of the way.