Miyoo Mini Plus 2026: 27,549 Games, No Real List

Let me save you the scroll. You searched for a Miyoo Mini Plus game list because you wanted a document: a manifest, a spreadsheet, a canonical index of every title the thing plays out of the box. That document does not exist. It has never existed. Miyoo, the Shenzhen outfit that stamps these things out, has never published one, and it is not going to start in 2026. What you get instead is a microSD card someone at a factory filled with ROMs, a number printed on the box, and the quiet expectation that you will not count.

I counted. This is a review of a game list that is not a list, sold with a number that is not a count, for a machine that is genuinely, against the odds, worth owning anyway. Rating up front, because I respect your time: 7.5 out of 10. Now let me spend six thousand words earning that number.

There Is No Official Game List

The premise of this article — the thing you typed into a search box — is a category error, and it is not your fault. Retailers manufactured the error on purpose. Every listing for a Miyoo Mini Plus dangles the same bait: 25,000+ games! Thousands of classics! Preloaded and ready! The implication is that somewhere behind that number sits a curated catalogue, vetted and versioned like a Steam library. There is no catalogue. There is a folder of files.

The device is a shell, not a platform

The Miyoo Mini Plus is an emulation handheld. It ships with open-source emulator cores and a microSD card, and the "game list" is nothing more than whatever ROM dump the seller chose to load onto that card before boxing it. Miyoo does not license, publish, curate, or update those ROMs. It cannot, legally, and we will get to that. The company sells a plastic clamshell with a chip in it; the games are cargo, added downstream by whoever assembled your specific unit. Two Mini Pluses bought from two sellers on the same afternoon can carry entirely different "lists."

This matters because it kills the entire mental model people arrive with. There is no version 2.0 of the game list. There is no changelog. Nobody is going to "add" a game in a patch, because nothing about the software stack is centrally managed. When a retailer's page tells you the library was "updated for 2026," they mean they re-flashed the same 2023-era ROM set onto a fresh card and reprinted the sticker.

Why 2025-2026 changed nothing

Here is the fact that should reframe your expectations: no new games have been released for the Miyoo Mini Plus in 2025 or 2026, and none will be. This is not a criticism. It is a definition. The device exists to run software from the 1983-to-2001 window — NES through PlayStation — and that software stopped being made decades ago. Asking what games came out for the Mini Plus this year is like asking what new roads opened for your record player. The medium is closed. The "list" is frozen because the eras it draws from are frozen, and that permanence is arguably the entire appeal.

So when you see a blog headline promising the "2026 game list," understand what it is: an SEO harvest of an unchanging pile. I have written the counterpart to this piece — a full breakdown of why the 28,000-game claim collapses the moment you dedupe it — and the short version is that the number is real in the same way a phone book is real. It is technically a list of names. It is not a recommendation.

The Counting Problem: 6,041 to 28,000

If there were an official list, we could at least agree on how long it is. There isn't, so we can't. The published figures for what is nominally the same product span more than four to one, and every one of them is defensible depending on how you count. This is the most honest section of the review, so pay attention: the number on the box is a decision, not a measurement.

The four numbers everyone quotes

Sort the storage tiers and the discrepancy becomes almost comic. The 32GB card is advertised at 13,056 games. The 64GB card jumps to 25,966 games — a figure the official Miyoo store gave in writing to a customer who asked back in late 2023, and which has been recycled in marketing ever since. The 128GB card tops out at 27,549 games, the largest official library of the three. Meanwhile the retro blog Retro Game Intensity rounds the 128GB set up to a marketing-friendly "28,000 games built-in," and officialmiyoomini.com splits the difference on its product page with a flat "25,000+." Same device family. Five different truths.

Where the honest number lives

Now strip the padding. The aggregation site GameCove, which tried to reconcile the Mini Plus library into unique titles, landed at roughly 6,041 games once it collapsed the duplicates. That gap — between 6,041 unique titles and 27,549 files — is the whole story, and it is not fraud so much as file-system arithmetic. A single game shows up as a USA dump, a Japan dump, a Europe dump, a beta, and two fan hacks. That is one game and six files. The high count treats every file as a game. The honest count treats every game as a game.

$ ls -1 "Roms/SFC/" | grep -i "chrono trigger"
Chrono Trigger (USA).sfc
Chrono Trigger (Japan).sfc
Chrono Trigger (Europe).sfc
Chrono Trigger (USA) (Beta).sfc
Chrono Trigger - Prophet's Guile (Hack).sfc
Chrono Trigger - Crimson Echoes (Hack).sfc
# 6 files. One game. The "27,549" counts all six.

Multiply that pattern across arcade ROM sets — where MAME alone lists thousands of parent and clone romsets, most of which are regional revisions of the same cabinet — and you can inflate a library into five figures without adding a single game a human would recognize. The arcade folder is where the count goes to get fat. It is padded with mahjong variants, bootleg clones, and revision B of a shooter you have never heard of, each counted as a distinct "game."

Why the padding is not (entirely) a con

I want to be fair to the pile. Some of those duplicates are genuinely useful. Having the Japanese and US versions of an RPG side by side matters if you care about translation differences or uncensored sprites. The fan hacks include real labor — Crimson Echoes is a famously ambitious unofficial Chrono Trigger sequel. But "useful to a subset of obsessives" is not the same as "27,549 games," and the marketing knows it. The number exists to win a spec-sheet comparison against the Anbernic next to it on the shelf, and nothing else.

The Hardware That Runs the Pile

You cannot review a game list without reviewing the machine, because the machine is what decides which of those 27,549 files are playable and which are decoration. A ROM you can boot but not enjoy is not a game you own; it is a screenshot with extra steps. The Mini Plus has a hard ceiling, and knowing exactly where it sits saves you a lot of disappointment.

SSD202D and 128MB: the wall

The Mini Plus runs on a SigmaStar SSD202D, a dual-core ARM Cortex-A7 SoC clocked to roughly 1.2GHz, paired with just 128MB of DDR3 RAM. This is not a criticism dressed as a spec; it is a spec that predicts everything. The SSD202D is a competent 8-bit and 16-bit emulation engine and a marginal PlayStation engine. Everything the device does well and everything it does badly follows from that one chip and that stingy pool of memory. When people tell you the Mini Plus "can't do N64 or Dreamcast," they are really telling you the SSD202D and 128MB run out of headroom right around the 32-bit line.

The screen earns its keep

The saving grace is the display: a 3.5-inch IPS panel at 640x480, a native 4:3 ratio that is a near-perfect fit for the systems this thing emulates well. NES, SNES, Genesis, and Game Boy Advance all lived in 4:3 or narrower, so their pixels land on this screen with clean integer-ish scaling and none of the letterboxing shame you get trying to squeeze retro content onto a 16:9 handheld. It is a genuinely lovely little screen, bright and dense, and it is the single strongest argument for the device over its wide-screen rivals. Retro content was made for this shape.

The full spec sheet

Here is the machine and its library laid out honestly, because a review that hides the numbers is a brochure.

Note the absence of analog sticks. That single omission quietly reshapes the library: it means the PlayStation 3D catalogue — the very games that most tempt buyers toward the 128GB card — is being played with a D-pad, which we will litigate below.

What's Actually in the Library

Enough about the count. What can you actually play? The pile spans thirteen-plus systems, and the distribution is heavily weighted toward the exact machines the SSD202D handles cleanly. This is either good curation or lucky coincidence — I lean toward coincidence — but the practical upshot is that most of what you will want to play is also most of what runs well.

The systems on the card

The stock library covers, at minimum: NES (Famicom), SNES (Super Famicom), Game Boy, Game Boy Color, Game Boy Advance, Sega Genesis/Mega Drive, Sega CD, Sega 32X, Neo Geo, Sony PlayStation, and arcade sets (FBNeo and MAME romsets), plus a scattering of smaller platforms depending on the card. On the SD card itself this is just a tree of folders, one per system, and understanding that tree is the fastest way to stop thinking of the device as magic and start thinking of it as a file server with a D-pad.

MiyooMiniPlus (SD root)
└── Roms/
    ├── FC/        NES / Famicom
    ├── SFC/       SNES / Super Famicom
    ├── GB/        Game Boy
    ├── GBC/       Game Boy Color
    ├── GBA/       Game Boy Advance
    ├── MD/        Sega Genesis / Mega Drive
    ├── SEGACD/    Sega CD
    ├── SEGA32X/   Sega 32X
    ├── NEOGEO/    Neo Geo (MVS/AES)
    ├── PS/        Sony PlayStation
    ├── ARCADE/    FBNeo / MAME sets
    └── ...        (13+ system folders total)

The headliners everyone points to

Across the retailer "best of" lists and enthusiast roundups, the same handful of titles get top billing, and for once the marketing and the merit agree. Chrono Trigger (SNES) is the crown jewel, cited on essentially every curated Mini Plus list I have seen. Pokemon Crystal (Game Boy Color) is the standout portable RPG. Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (PlayStation) is the flagship that justifies the PS1 folder. And in the weeds, blogs like Retro Game Intensity single out oddities like Alone in the Dark: One-Eyed Jack's Revenge — the 1993 sequel to the game that more or less invented survival horror — as proof the pile has depth beyond the obvious hits.

What is not there, and why

Before you get excited: the library stops hard at the 32-bit line. There is no N64, no PlayStation 2, no Dreamcast, no GameCube, and no Saturn to speak of. Anyone promising you Call of Duty or a modern indie like CrossCode on a Mini Plus is either confused or lying — those are a category error, software from an entirely different computing era that this chip cannot touch. The ceiling is the SSD202D, and the ceiling is PlayStation. Treat any listing that claims otherwise as a red flag about everything else it says.

The Flagship Games, Reviewed

A game list is only as good as the games you will actually finish on it. So let me do the thing the retailers never do and actually review the headliners, on this hardware, with a controller in my hands. Because "it's on the card" and "it's worth playing on the card" are different claims.

Chrono Trigger (SNES, 1995)

If the Mini Plus library had to be judged on one game, it would win on this one. Chrono Trigger was Square's so-called "Dream Team" project — Final Fantasy's Hironobu Sakaguchi, Dragon Quest's Yuji Horii, and Dragon Ball's Akira Toriyama in one room — and it routinely lands at or near the top of "greatest games of all time" lists three decades on. On the Mini Plus it is flawless: the SNES core runs it at full speed, the 640x480 panel renders Toriyama's sprite work with the clarity of a good CRT, and the game's compact, no-random-encounter design is a natural fit for handheld sessions. The active-time battle system wants precise inputs and gets them from the Mini Plus's crisp D-pad and face buttons. This is the game to hand a skeptic. It is the argument for the whole device, in one 20-hour package that never stutters.

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (PS1, 1997)

The flagship of the PlayStation folder and the reason people reach for the 128GB card. Symphony of the Night is the game that fused Castlevania with Metroid and gave the "Metroidvania" its second syllable, and its cultural weight is captured in its own gloriously overwrought script — Dracula sneering "What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets!" over an organ sting. Hardcore Gaming 101's Castlevania retrospective treats it, correctly, as the series' high-water mark. The good news: it runs on the Mini Plus, and it looks superb on that dense little screen. The catch: it is a 2D game that happens to live on a 3D console, so the D-pad is fine for it. It is the PS1 games that need a stick where the compromises start — which brings us to the section nobody in marketing wants to write.

Pokemon Crystal (GBC, 2000) and the portable canon

Pokemon Crystal is the definitive second-generation Pokemon and a poster child for what the Mini Plus does best: Game Boy and Game Boy Color titles are effectively native here, sipping battery, running perfectly, and benefiting from a screen infinitely better than the murky original hardware ever had. The device is, functionally, the best Game Boy Color that Nintendo never made. The GBA folder is just as strong — Metroid: Zero Mission, Advance Wars, the Fire Emblem line — all locked to full speed. If your honest use case is "handheld-era games I never finished," the Mini Plus is close to perfect and the PlayStation folder is a bonus, not the point.

How the flagships stack up against their genre peers

Because a review of a game list owes you a comparison, here are the SNES role-players the Mini Plus community argues about, all of them present on any decent card, judged as games and as fits for this hardware.

Notice the right-hand column. Every 16-bit heavyweight runs perfectly, because the SSD202D was built for exactly this era. The performance story only gets complicated when you cross into 3D — which is the next section.

How It Plays, System by System

This is the section that actually decides whether the game list is 27,549 games or a few thousand games and twenty thousand pieces of decoration. Emulation quality is not uniform across the pile. Here is the honest breakdown, folder by folder.

8-bit and 16-bit: effectively perfect

NES, SNES, Genesis, Master System, Game Boy, Game Boy Color, and Game Boy Advance are, for all practical purposes, solved on this device. Full speed, accurate sound, clean video, negligible input lag. This is where the vast majority of the games you would actually choose to play live, and it is where the Mini Plus is genuinely excellent. If you never opened the PlayStation folder, you would still have a library of several thousand of the best games ever made, running better than they did on original hardware. The 4:3 screen and the tactile D-pad were built for this material. Nine-tenths of the real value of the "list" sits in these folders.

PlayStation: the real ceiling

Here is where the marketing and the silicon part ways. The SSD202D can run PlayStation games — 2D titles like Symphony of the Night and the sprite-based fighters run well — but the 3D catalogue is a coin flip. Heavier polygonal games chug, drop frames, or need frameskip that makes them ugly, and every 3D PS1 game is being controlled with a D-pad because there are no analog sticks. Gran Turismo and Ape Escape were literally built around the DualShock; playing them here is a compromise at best. I have written the full autopsy of which PlayStation games actually hold up on the Mini Plus and which are just checkbox ROMs, and the honest count of "good PS1 experiences" is a couple hundred, not the thousands the folder implies. Treat the PS1 library as a bonus you sometimes cash in, not a headline feature.

Neo Geo and arcade: gloriously heavy, mostly fine

The Neo Geo library — Metal Slug, King of Fighters, Garou — is a highlight, because those are 2D games with massive sprites that the SSD202D handles with room to spare, and they look phenomenal on the IPS panel. General arcade emulation via FBNeo is strong for the CPS-1/CPS-2 era and gets patchier the more obscure and CPU-heavy the board. The thousands of arcade "games" padding the count are mostly playable, but this is also where the largest share of the duplicate-and-clone bloat lives. Getting the right emulator core matters more here than anywhere else; if you care, my walkthrough on picking the correct RetroArch core in about 30 minutes will save you a lot of "why does this one run at half speed" frustration.

The List vs the Competition

The Mini Plus does not sell its library in a vacuum. Every budget handheld ships with the same wink-and-nod pile of unlicensed ROMs, all quoting inflated counts, all pretending the number means something. So the real question is not "how big is the list" but "whose list, on whose screen, running whose firmware."

Against the Anbernic RG35XX line

The Anbernic RG35XX and its many variants are the Mini Plus's natural rival, and they play the same numbers game with the same padded counts. The RG35XX often ships a larger raw card, which sounds like a win until you remember that a bigger pile of the same duplicated ROMs is not more games — it is more copies. The Mini Plus counters with a better-regarded screen for the money and, crucially, the most mature custom-firmware scene in the category. I did the full head-to-head on why the Mini Plus's 128MB build can out-feel a 256MB RG35XX in practice, and the conclusion holds here: card size is the least interesting spec on either box.

The real answer is custom firmware

Here is the thing the count-obsessed listings bury. The best "game list" for a Mini Plus is the one you build yourself. The device's killer feature is OnionOS (also called OnionUI), the community firmware whose current builds sit in the 4.2 release-candidate line — and note that many sellers who advertise "custom firmware preinstalled" are shipping stale 1.x or 2.x images. OnionOS gives you box art, a clean launcher, per-system organization, RetroAchievements, and — most importantly — the ability to delete the 20,000 files you will never touch and load the few hundred you will. A curated 300-game card on OnionOS is a better product than a 27,549-file stock card, full stop.

The comparison, laid out

Read across the "realistic unique" column and the whole category converges on the same few thousand games — because they are all pulling from the same finite well of pre-2002 software. Nobody has a secret trove. They have the same ROMs and different screens.

Five Real-World Scenarios

A list is an abstraction. Play is concrete. Here is how the 27,549-file pile actually behaves for five different people, because the same library is a triumph for one of them and a swamp for another.

The casual and the completionist

The casual player is the Mini Plus's ideal customer. They want to boot the thing, pick up Super Mario World or Pokemon Crystal, play for twenty minutes on the couch, and put it down. For them, the enormous list is pure upside — a bottomless well they will never exhaust and never need to. They will play forty games in the device's lifetime and be delighted. The count is a comfort, not a chore.

The completionist has the opposite experience, and it is the most underrated failure mode of the whole category. Faced with 27,549 undifferentiated files, no metadata, no ratings, and thousands of near-identical arcade clones, the completionist's instinct to "see everything" is not just impractical — it is actively hostile to their enjoyment. The pile is not a collection to complete; it is a landfill to excavate. My advice for this person is blunt: reflash OnionOS, load a hand-picked few hundred, and pretend the other 27,000 files never existed. Curation is not censorship. It is mercy.

The speedrunner and co-op

The speedrunner needs two things the stock pile fumbles: the exact ROM version their category requires (routing differs between USA 1.0 and 1.1 revisions) and frame-accurate input. The duplicate-heavy library is, ironically, a gift here — the specific revision you need is probably already on the card, buried among its siblings — but you will have to know the difference and hunt for it. Input lag on the Mini Plus is low but not competition-grade, and there is no rewind-and-verify tooling. It is a fine practice device and a poor submission device. Save states help; the frame counter does not exist.

Co-op is where the hardware simply says no. There is one screen, one D-pad, no second controller port, and no meaningful link-cable emulation for the casual user. Secret of Mana and Contra were built for two, and the Mini Plus can only ever hand the device back and forth. If shared-couch play is your priority, this is the wrong machine and no size of game list changes that.

The commuter

The mobile player — train, plane, waiting room — is, alongside the casual, exactly who this device was designed for. It is genuinely pocket-sized, the 3000mAh battery clears a workday of 8- and 16-bit play, and the enormous library means you are never without options for a delay of any length. This is the scenario where the big number stops being a lie and starts being a feature: when you have four minutes or four hours to kill, having thousands of games in your pocket, even padded thousands, is the entire point. For the commuter, the Mini Plus is close to the platonic ideal of a distraction machine.

Pricing and Availability

You are not buying a game list. You are buying a microSD card's worth of files bundled with a $54 gadget, and the pricing reflects exactly that. Here is what the tiers cost and what the extra money actually buys, which is less than the listing implies.

What each tier costs

Prices float constantly on AliExpress and the various "official" storefronts, and the device is discounted often, so treat the ~$53.99 entry figure as a floor rather than a fixed MSRP. The important pattern is the shape of the curve, not the exact cents.

Why the bigger card is a weak upsell

Look hard at that table. The jump from 32GB (13,056 files) to 128GB (27,549 files) more than doubles the count, but the unique-game gain is modest — mostly additional PlayStation titles and a thicker layer of arcade duplicates. If your interest is 8- and 16-bit, the 32GB card already contains essentially everything worth playing, and the extra money buys you files you will delete the day you install OnionOS. The 64GB tier is the sensible middle if you genuinely want the PS1 folder. The 128GB tier exists to win the spec war.

Where to buy, and the honest option

The device sells through AliExpress, the officialmiyoomini.com storefront, and a rotating cast of resellers, and community sites like Bubbleretro maintain running notes on which cards ship with what. But here is the option none of them advertise: buy the device, ignore the preloaded card, and load your own legally-dumped games. If you own the cartridges, a tool like a Retrode can dump your SNES and Genesis carts in about 20 minutes, and those dumps are unambiguously yours to play. Which is a good moment to talk about the thing the listings never mention.

Who Should Buy Which Card

Reviews that end in "it depends" are useless, so here are concrete recommendations by use case. Find yourself in the list and stop reading the others.

The five recommendations

• The nostalgic returner (wants the games of their childhood, nothing more): buy the 32GB card. It contains every NES/SNES/Genesis/Game Boy title you remember and thousands you forgot. Spending more is spending on duplicates.
• The handheld-RPG obsessive (wants GBA and GBC done right): buy any tier and go straight to the GBA/GBC folders. The Mini Plus is the best Game Boy Advance that never existed; the screen and battery were made for this. The list size is irrelevant to you.
• The PS1 dabbler (wants Symphony of the Night, FF Tactics, the 2D PlayStation canon): buy the 64GB card for the PS1 folder, but keep expectations 2D. The 3D catalogue will disappoint the D-pad.
• The tinkerer (will reflash within a week): buy the cheapest tier and immediately install OnionOS with properly chosen cores. You are paying for the hardware, not the pile, and you will build a better library in an afternoon than any factory shipped.
• The gift-giver (buying for someone non-technical): buy the 64GB card, hand it over as-is, and let the big preloaded pile be the feature it is marketed as. This is the one scenario where "25,000+ games" out of the box is genuinely the right call — a non-tinkerer will never miss OnionOS and will love the abundance.

Who should not buy it at all

If you want N64, PS2, Dreamcast, GameCube, or anything 3D-and-modern, this is the wrong device and no card fixes that; look at a more powerful handheld and be honest with yourself about budget. If couch co-op is your priority, the single-screen no-second-controller reality of this thing will frustrate you. And if the unlicensed-ROM situation genuinely troubles you, buy the bare unit and dump your own carts — do not pretend the preloaded pile is clean.

The legality nobody prints on the box

Let me be the adult in the room. Those 27,549 files are copyrighted works, and no court anywhere has blessed a factory in Shenzhen shipping them preinstalled. The manufacturer sells the hardware; the ROMs are added by resellers precisely so Miyoo can keep its hands technically clean. In most jurisdictions, playing a game you did not buy is infringement, dumping a cartridge you do own sits in a defensible-but-untested grey zone, and the "25,000+ games" boast is a legal liability the sellers are betting nobody enforces at this scale. I am not your lawyer and this is not advice. But a review that gushes about a free 27,000-game library without mentioning that the library is somebody else's intellectual property is not a review. It is an accessory.

Pros and Cons

Everything above, compressed for the scanners and the AI engines. No hedging.

What the Mini Plus gets right

• The screen. A 3.5-inch 640x480 4:3 IPS panel is the correct shape and resolution for the systems this thing emulates, and it is lovely.
• 8- and 16-bit emulation is effectively perfect. Nine-tenths of the games you actually want run flawlessly on the SSD202D.
• OnionOS. The most mature custom-firmware scene in the budget category turns a landfill into a curated library.
• Genuine pocketability and battery. The 3000mAh cell clears a day of retro play; it fits a jacket pocket.
• Price. From ~$53.99, it is one of the best dollars-to-fun ratios in gaming, list or no list.

What it gets wrong

• The "game list" is marketing fiction. No official catalogue, no versioning, counts inflated 4:1 by duplicates and arcade clones.
• PlayStation is oversold. The SSD202D and a stick-less D-pad make the 3D PS1 folder a checkbox, not a feature.
• No analog sticks, no second controller. A structural limit on the entire 3D and co-op catalogue.
• The legal status is unaddressed. Preloaded ROMs are unlicensed; the sellers offload the risk onto you.
• Duplicate bloat. Finding the game you want inside the stock pile is a chore the firmware does not solve.

The Machine's Verdict: 7.5/10

So we arrive back at the number I gave you at the top, and now it means something. 7.5 out of 10. Let me defend both digits.

Why it clears 7

Because the actual product — a $54 handheld with a beautiful 4:3 screen that plays every important 8- and 16-bit game ever made, flawlessly, for a day on a charge, that fits in a pocket and accepts the best custom firmware in its class — is one of the genuinely great objects in modern retro gaming. Strip away the marketing and the Mini Plus does the core job better than hardware costing five times more did in its own era. The history of the games it holds — chronicled everywhere from Wikipedia to the Digital Antiquarian's long-form retro-computing archive to Hardcore Gaming 101 — is the actual product, and the Mini Plus is a superb window onto it. Every point of that 7.5 is earned by play.

Why it doesn't reach 9

Because the thing you searched for — the "game list" — is the weakest part of the package, and it is weak by design. The 27,549 number is a lie of omission dressed as generosity. The PlayStation folder writes checks the silicon cannot cash. The library is a landfill until you spend an afternoon curating it, and the manufacturer has arranged its supply chain specifically so that the legal exposure lands on you, not them. A device this good deserves a library strategy this honest, and it does not have one.

The bottom line

Buy the Miyoo Mini Plus. Buy the cheapest card. Install OnionOS the day it arrives. Load a few hundred games you will actually play — dump your own carts if you can — and let the mythical 27,549-game list evaporate into what it always was: a folder of files and a sticker on a box. Do that, and you own one of the best small machines in the hobby. Believe the number on the box, and you own a very pretty landfill. Either way, the score is 7.5/10, and the difference between those two outcomes is entirely in your hands. For a fuller reckoning of how the count falls apart under scrutiny, my companion piece on the 28,000-game claim and the 7.5/10 verdict behind it does the arithmetic in public.