Miyoo Mini Plus Game List 2026: 10 Systems, 7.5/10

Type Miyoo Mini Plus game list into any search box and the autocomplete will lie to you before you finish the word "list." It will promise 25,966 games. A marketplace reseller will promise 28,000. A near-identical clone will promise the same number for twenty-five dollars and deliver a folder of half-broken ROMs, a corrupted save directory, and possibly a keylogger. None of those numbers describe the Miyoo Mini Plus. They describe a microSD card that somebody else filled up and then photographed under a ring light.

The device itself ships with no game list at all. What it ships with is a ceiling, and the ceiling is the original Sony PlayStation. Everything below that line runs beautifully. Most things above it do not run at all. This review is about exactly where that line sits, why the silicon puts it there, and whether the 7.5 out of 10 we are about to staple to this handheld is praise or a caution. It is both, and if you remember only one sentence from this piece, remember that the number is honest in both directions.

The Verdict, Up Front

We front-load the score because the deadpan thing to do is refuse to make you scroll. The Miyoo Mini Plus earns a 7.5 out of 10 as a games machine in 2026, and it earns it by being ruthlessly good at one job and completely uninterested in any job past it. This is a device that plays a 1990 Game Boy cartridge and a 1997 PlayStation disc with equal ease, and then falls off a cliff the moment you ask for a fourth-generation Nintendo cartridge with an N in front of it.

The one-line answer

If your definition of a retro handheld ends at the PlayStation, this is possibly the best value in the entire category, and it has been for two years running. If your definition includes the Nintendo 64, the Dreamcast, or the PSP, the correct move is to close this tab and buy something with an analog stick and a fan. The Mini Plus has neither, on purpose, because it is a $55 to $79 object and physics charges rent.

Why 7.5 and not higher

The Plus loses points for three reasons, and none of them are surprises. It has no analog stick, which quietly disqualifies a chunk of the PlayStation library it otherwise runs. Its stock firmware is mediocre enough that the community has effectively replaced it. And its ceiling, while high for the money, is a hard ceiling: there is no settings menu, no overclock, no future update that turns 128 megabytes of RAM into enough for a Dreamcast. A 7.5 is what you give a device that is excellent inside its walls and honest about where the walls are.

Who this review is for

This is for the person who searched "game list" expecting a spreadsheet and deserves the truth instead: that the list is a function of the hardware and the firmware, not a fixed catalogue. We are going to give you the systems, the representative titles, the failure modes, five ways it actually plays in the wild, a scorecard, and a price you should not exceed. Then you can decide whether the ceiling is your ceiling.

What a 'Game List' Really Means

The phrase "game list" is doing a lot of dishonest work in the marketing around this device, so let us dismantle it before we build anything on top of it. There is no official Miyoo game list. There cannot be, for reasons that are half legal and half technical, and both halves are worth understanding.

The reseller number is not a spec

Search results for this device are polluted with counts: 13,056 games, 25,966 games, 27,549 games, 28,000 games, sometimes a modest 11,000. These are not device specifications. They are the ROM counts on whatever microSD card a given seller has decided to bundle, and they are wildly inconsistent because there is no standard. The 25,966 figure that shows up most often is simply the size of a popular pre-loaded card floating around the gray market. It tells you nothing about the Miyoo Mini Plus and everything about somebody's download folder. Treat any headline number attached to this handheld the way you would treat a used-car odometer with fresh tape residue.

Firmware is the real 'game list'

What actually determines what you can play is the operating system and its emulator cores. Out of the box the Plus runs Miyoo's own stock firmware, which is functional and forgettable. In practice almost every serious owner replaces it with OnionOS from the OnionUI project, whose own description bills it as an enhanced operating system for the Miyoo Mini and Mini Plus with 100+ built-in emulators, automatic save-and-resume, and a deep set of customization features. That "100+" is the closest thing to a real game-list figure this device has, and notice that it counts emulators, not titles. The list is a capability, not a catalogue.

Systems, not titles

The defensible 2026 way to describe this handheld, and the framing this entire review uses, is by system libraries rather than a fixed roster: Game Boy, Game Boy Color and Game Boy Advance; NES and SNES; Genesis and Mega Drive; arcade; and PlayStation 1. Those are the platforms current guides agree the device reliably supports, and organizing by platform is the only honest structure, because whether a specific game runs depends far more on which system it belongs to than on the game itself. A featherweight PS1 puzzle game and a brutal PS1 3D racer live in the same folder and behave nothing alike. The folder is the truth; the count is theatre.

The Specs That Set the Ceiling

Every limit in this review traces back to one chip and one number, so we are going to name them and then explain why they matter. The Miyoo Mini Plus is a triumph of restraint, which is a polite way of saying it is deeply, deliberately cheap in the exact places where cheapness does not hurt a PlayStation and absolutely destroys a Dreamcast.

The SoC nobody markets

At the center sits a SigmaStar SSD202D, a dual-core ARM Cortex-A7 system-on-chip designed for smart-home panels and industrial displays, not for gaming. It is competent, frugal, and utterly without a 3D graphics unit; the chip has a 2D graphics engine and nothing more. Every polygon this device draws is drawn in software on those two little A7 cores. That single fact is the entire reason PlayStation is the ceiling and the Nintendo 64 is a coin toss: PS1 emulation can lean on the CPU, while the N64 and everything above it really wants hardware you do not have. It is worth noting the Plus shares this exact silicon with the original Mini, so the upgrade is ergonomic rather than computational, a point we made at length in our look at how the two Miyoos are the same chip in a bigger shell.

128 megabytes and what it forbids

The second number is the RAM: 128 MB, integrated into the SoC package, which is why you can never add more no matter how much you want to. 128 MB is generous for a Game Boy Advance and adequate for a PlayStation. It is a joke to a Dreamcast, whose games assume 16 MB of main RAM plus 8 MB of video RAM feeding a real GPU, and whose emulators need multiples of the original console's memory to reconstruct that environment in software. When people ask why a two-hundred-dollar handheld plays Dreamcast and this one does not, the answer is usually sitting in the RAM column, not the price tag.

The full spec sheet

Here is the device in one table, with the emulation ceiling stated as a spec because, on this machine, it is one.

The Ten Systems That Run Full-Speed

Playhouse.io's 2026 emulation guide gives the clean version of the good news: the Miyoo Mini Plus runs Game Boy, Game Boy Color, Game Boy Advance, NES, SNES, Mega Drive/Genesis, Master System, Neo Geo, arcade, and PlayStation 1 at full speed. Count them. That is ten systems, and it is the number in our title, because it is the only large number attached to this device that is actually true.

The 8- and 16-bit floor: everything just works

NES, SNES, Master System, Genesis, and the Game Boy line are not a challenge for this hardware; they are a rounding error. These are systems the SSD202D emulates with cores to spare, which is why the 16-bit era is where the Mini Plus feels less like an emulator and more like a time machine that happens to fit in a jacket pocket. Playhouse.io's own example list reads like a greatest-hits shelf: Super Mario World, Sonic, Streets of Rage, Kirby, Tetris, plus the Pokemon and Zelda entries that define their respective platforms. On a 640 × 480 panel these games look sharper than they ever did on the CRTs they were born on, which is either heresy or progress depending on how you feel about scanline shaders. There is a whole configuration culture around getting the presentation right; if you want to go down that particular hole, our walkthrough on loading and tuning RetroArch cores covers the shader and overlay stack in detail.

Game Boy Advance: the sweet spot

If we had to name the single system this device was born to play, it is the Game Boy Advance. The 3:2 GBA framebuffer maps almost perfectly onto the 4:3 screen, the games were designed for a handheld in the first place so the controls line up exactly, and battery life at this tier is measured in whole afternoons. Propel RC clocked roughly 7.5 hours on Game Boy titles under OnionOS, and GBA sits close enough to that floor that you will charge the thing less often than you charge your headphones. This is the tier where the Mini Plus stops being a bargain and starts being genuinely, unarguably excellent.

Neo Geo and arcade: the loud ones

Neo Geo and the broader arcade libraries round out the ten, and they are where the Mini Plus gets to show off. Metal Slug, which Playhouse.io calls out by name, runs exactly as it should: fast, dense, and merciless. Arcade emulation is finicky about ROM sets and BIOS files in a way the console platforms are not, so this is the corner of the library where the reseller cards most often fall apart and where doing it yourself pays off. Get the sets right and the SSD202D handles the 2D onslaught without breaking a sweat, because a wall of sprites is precisely the workload a 2D graphics engine was built for. For the history of the genre this hardware serves so well, Hardcore Gaming 101's deep-dive archives remain the standing reference.

The PlayStation Question

PlayStation 1 is the ceiling, and the ceiling is high enough that it deserves its own section. This is the system that separates the Mini Plus from the cheaper handhelds beneath it and, simultaneously, the system where the device's compromises start to show. A PS1 that runs is the headline. A PS1 that runs everything is a fantasy, and we are going to be specific about the difference.

The titles that hold up

Playhouse.io's guide lists the reliably-running PS1 canon, and it is a serious list: Final Fantasy VII, VIII, and IX; Crash Bandicoot 1 through 3; Spyro 1 through 3; Metal Gear Solid; Castlevania: Symphony of the Night; Tekken 3; Gran Turismo 1 and 2; Resident Evil 1 and 2; and Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 1 and 2. That is not a token gesture toward PlayStation support; that is a substantial slice of why anyone owned the console. The turn-based Final Fantasy trilogy in particular is the ideal Mini Plus PS1 workload, because turn-based combat asks nothing of the frame rate and everything of the screen, and this screen delivers. We said as much in our dedicated breakdown of the device's PS1 ceiling and where exactly it lands, and nothing in 2026 has moved that ceiling.

The 3D tax and the 640x480 screen

Two structural facts shape PS1 on this device. First, every 3D frame is CPU-rendered, so the more polygons and the more transparency a game throws, the closer you get to the edge. Second, the original PlayStation output a low-resolution, wobbling image that the crisp 640 × 480 IPS panel renders with unflinching honesty, which is not always flattering. The famously atmospheric pre-rendered backgrounds of Symphony of the Night hold up gorgeously; a fully polygonal fighter reveals every seam. This is a preservation-versus-authenticity argument as old as emulation itself, and one the Digital Antiquarian's ongoing history of the medium would recognize instantly: the machine that shows you the past most clearly is not always the one that shows it most kindly.

Where PS1 starts to sweat

The honest caveat is the missing analog stick. Twin-stick and analog-first PS1 titles, the Ape Escape lineage most obviously, are compromised or unplayable on a device with only a D-pad, no matter how fast the emulation. And the heaviest 3D showcases can dip under load in ways the 16-bit floor never does. The rule of thumb: if a PS1 game was famous for being turn-based, 2D, or on-rails, it is a joy here; if it was famous for pushing polygons or demanding two analog sticks, temper the expectation. The ceiling is real, but like all ceilings it has a few low beams.

Where It Breaks: N64, Dreamcast, PSP

A review that only lists what works is an advertisement, and The Machine does not write advertisements. Here is where the Miyoo Mini Plus stops. Playhouse.io's 2026 guide is admirably blunt about it, and so are we.

N64: hit-or-miss is generous

The Nintendo 64 is officially "hit-or-miss" on this hardware, which in practice means a handful of the lightest first-party titles limp along at reduced settings while most of the library either crawls or refuses. This is the CPU-rendered-3D wall again: the N64's microcode-driven graphics are exactly the kind of workload two Cortex-A7 cores were never meant to reconstruct. If N64 is a priority, the correct hardware is a different class of device entirely, or a dedicated solution like the ones we covered in our piece on the Analogue 3D and its 2x N64 upscaler. Asking a $55 2D-engine handheld to be your N64 machine is a category error, not a firmware problem.

Dreamcast: the fantasy

Dreamcast is likewise "hit-or-miss," and here the memory ceiling is the executioner. Sega's last console paired a real PowerVR2 GPU with a comparatively generous RAM budget, and reconstructing that in software on 128 MB is not a tuning exercise, it is a wall. A few 2D-leaning or exceptionally light Dreamcast titles can be coaxed into running, and every one of them will be presented online as proof the device "does Dreamcast." It does not do Dreamcast in any sense a reasonable buyer means by the word. Treat any Dreamcast demo of this handheld as the exception being sold as the rule.

PSP: don't

The PlayStation Portable is simply not recommended, full stop, and this is the cleanest of the three verdicts. The PSP is a 3D handheld with hardware acceleration and a widescreen frame the Mini Plus cannot match on either the compute or the display axis. There is no version of this working well, so do not load a PSP core hoping to be the exception. The device tops out at the PlayStation that plugs into a wall, not the one that fits in the other pocket. Respect the line and the device is brilliant; ignore it and you have bought the wrong machine.

The Onion Factor: Firmware Is Everything

We have referenced OnionOS a dozen times because it is impossible to review this device honestly without it. The Miyoo Mini Plus you buy and the Miyoo Mini Plus you should actually use are running different software, and the gap between them is the single biggest variable in the entire ownership experience.

Stock firmware vs OnionOS

The stock firmware is not broken, but it is dull, and it leaves performance on the table. OnionUI's OnionOS replaces it with the aforementioned 100+ emulators, automatic save-and-resume so the device behaves like a console with sleep, and a customization layer deep enough to become a hobby of its own. The most quantifiable win is battery: Propel RC measured the jump from roughly 4 hours on stock firmware to about 7 hours on OnionOS, with 6 to 7 hours common in SNES play and about 7.5 hours for Game Boy. Nearly doubling runtime by swapping software is the kind of free lunch that does not exist in most of consumer electronics, and it is why the community treats flashing OnionOS as step zero rather than an optional upgrade.

The firmware version that matters

There is one number to write down. Retro Game Corps' community guide notes that the device needs stock firmware version 202305052130 or later to take advantage of newer OnionOS developments. If you buy a unit that has been sitting in a warehouse on older firmware, updating the base firmware first is the difference between a smooth install and an afternoon of forum archaeology. For the definitive, regularly-updated version of the firmware and compatibility story, Retro Game Corps remains the reference the rest of the community quietly copies from.

How the library is organized

Once OnionOS is on the card, the "game list" becomes a folder tree, and understanding that tree is the whole trick. Each supported system gets a directory with a short tag, and you drop legally-obtained ROMs into the matching folder. The ten full-speed systems map like this:

/Roms/
  GB/       Game Boy
  GBC/      Game Boy Color
  GBA/      Game Boy Advance
  FC/       NES / Famicom
  SFC/      SNES / Super Famicom
  MD/       Mega Drive / Genesis
  MS/       Master System
  NEOGEO/   Neo Geo (needs BIOS)
  ARCADE/   FBNeo / MAME sets
  PS/       PlayStation 1 (.chd / .pbp)

That is the real game list: ten folders, each a system, each filled by you from sources you are entitled to use. There is no magic 25,966-game archive, only these directories and whatever you legitimately put in them.

How It Actually Plays

Specs are theory. Here is the Mini Plus in the hands of five different owners, because a device this specialized plays completely differently depending on who is holding it and why.

The casual and the commuter

For the casual player, the one who wants twenty minutes of Super Mario World on the couch, the Mini Plus is close to perfect. Instant resume means it behaves like a bookmark you can pick up and put down, the pick-up-and-play 16-bit library is bottomless, and there are no menus to fight. For the mobile commuter, the story is battery and pocketability: a 3.5-inch device that runs GBA for the better part of a workday and slips into a coat pocket is exactly the object a train ride wants. Wi-Fi, new to the Plus, means you can pull down scrapers and box art without tethering to a PC, which quietly matters more than the spec sheet suggests.

The completionist and the speedrunner

The completionist grinding a 60-hour JRPG is the ideal PlayStation-tier customer: Final Fantasy VII, VIII, or IX on a crisp IPS panel with save states as an insurance policy against boss-fight disasters is arguably a better completion experience than the original console offered. The speedrunner is a more complicated guest. Save states and fast resume are a practice-mode dream, but emulation on a fixed, closed device introduces its own timing and input-latency variables, and the lack of an analog stick rules out any category that needs one. For casual runs and route practice it is fine; for frame-perfect competitive submission it is the wrong tool, and any serious runner already knows why.

Co-op, and the thing about the D-pad

The co-op scenario is where physics wins the argument. This is a single-screen, single-controller handheld with no second-controller support and no video output, so "co-op" here means passing the device back and forth on a turn-based game, not two players at once. That is a genuine limitation the peer devices with HDMI out do not share. And underpinning every scenario is the control scheme: a good D-pad, real face buttons, two shoulder buttons, and no analog stick. For nine of the ten systems that is exactly correct, because those systems never had a stick either. For the tenth, PlayStation, it is the compromise you accept in exchange for the price and the pocket size. The D-pad is the hero of this device and the stick-shaped hole next to it is the villain, and both are true at once.

Against the Field

The Mini Plus does not exist in a vacuum, and the honest way to score it is against the handhelds a buyer is actually cross-shopping. Here is the field, chosen to bracket the Plus from below and above.

Versus the original Mini

The clearest comparison is the cheapest. The original Miyoo Mini runs the identical SSD202D and 128 MB of RAM, which means it has the identical PS1 ceiling. Everything separating the two is ergonomic: the Plus has a 3.5-inch screen against the Mini's 2.8, a larger 3000 mAh-class battery against the Mini's ~1900 to 2000, and Wi-Fi the original lacked. The original was roughly twenty dollars cheaper and is now largely discontinued, which settles the argument by attrition. If you can still find a Mini and want the smallest possible object, it plays the same games; for almost everyone the Plus is the one that is actually in stock.

Versus the Anbernic RG35XX line

The Anbernic RG35XX is the natural rival and the more capable chip. Its Allwinner H700 is a quad-core Cortex-A53 with a full gigabyte of RAM, which pushes its ceiling past the PlayStation into selective Dreamcast, PSP, and DS territory, and it adds HDMI output the Miyoo lacks. On paper it wins. In practice the Miyoo answers with OnionOS maturity, a more refined out-of-box feel for the systems both devices handle, and pricing that lands in the same $55 to $65 window. The RG35XX is the pick if you want to poke above the PS1 line; the Miyoo is the pick if you want the most polished experience at or below it.

Versus everything with an analog stick

Step up to a device with analog sticks and a real GPU, such as the Android-based Retroid Pocket family, and you are in a different conversation and a different price bracket. Those handhelds reach GameCube and PlayStation 2, but they cost several times as much and trade the Miyoo's instant simplicity for the complexity of Android; we broke down that whole ladder in our guide to the 2026 Retroid Pocket lineup and its one clear winner. The table below stacks the field.

Pricing and the $25 Clone Problem

Pricing on this device is chaos, and the chaos is itself a buying signal. The same handheld appears at a dozen prices across a dozen sellers, and knowing the real band protects you from both overpaying and, worse, underpaying into a fake.

What it actually costs in 2026

The legitimate 2026 band is sub-$70 and has been stable. Retro Handheld HQ pegs the market price at roughly $55 to $65 on the major marketplaces. Handheld Picker documented a Miyoo store holiday sale, May 1 to 5, dropping the 64GB color variant to $56.99 against a $79.99 regular price. Propel RC's 2025 review called it a $53 pocket handheld outright. Miyoo's own 2025 store page listed the broader Mini Plus range from $69 to $99 depending on variant and bundle. The signal in that spread: anything from about $53 to $80 is a normal price, and $99 is only justified by a specific variant or a pre-loaded bundle you may not want.

The total build cost

The device is only half the bill. You need a microSD card, and Propel RC's advice is the correct advice: a SanDisk 128GB card runs about $15, and you should install OnionOS immediately. That puts the realistic all-in cost of a properly-configured Mini Plus at roughly $70 to $80, card included, which is still one of the best value propositions in the hobby. Buy the card from a reputable seller; counterfeit SD cards are their own cottage industry and a fake card will corrupt your saves at the worst possible moment.

The clones and why the number is a trap

Then there is the $25 listing. Around the legitimate device orbits a cloud of clones and knock-offs priced far below the real thing and advertised with the biggest ROM count they can invent. That $25 unit is not a Miyoo Mini Plus; it is a look-alike with worse everything and a pre-loaded card of dubious legality and dubious safety. The clone problem is the single strongest argument for buying from Miyoo's official channels or a known marketplace seller, even at $56.99 instead of $25. The game list is a lie on both devices, but only one of them actually plays the games.

Who Should Actually Buy This

Recommendations are where reviews earn their keep, so here are the concrete cases, sorted by whether the answer is yes, no, or something else.

Buy it if...

Buy the Miyoo Mini Plus if you fit any of these:

• The pocketable 16-bit purist. If your library lives in NES, SNES, Genesis, and the Game Boy line, nothing at this price does it better or lasts longer on a charge.
• The GBA-first buyer. The device was practically designed for Game Boy Advance, right down to the ~7.5-hour battery. If GBA is your priority, stop reading and buy it.
• The JRPG completionist. Turn-based PlayStation epics on a crisp IPS panel with save states are the ideal use case for the PS1 ceiling.
• The commuter who values simplicity. Instant resume, real buttons, no Android, no fuss. It turns on and it is already the game.
• The gift-giver on a budget. A configured $70 handheld that plays forty years of games is a genuinely great present, provided you flash OnionOS before wrapping it.

Skip it if...

Do not buy it if you fit any of these:

• You want N64, Dreamcast, or PSP. The ceiling is real. Buy a different class of device and do not fight physics.
• You need an analog stick. Twin-stick and analog-first games are compromised or impossible here.
• You want to play on a TV. There is no video output. This is a personal, single-screen device by design.
• You want local two-player. There is one screen and one controller; co-op means taking turns.

The upgrade paths

If the skip list stung, the good news is the ladder is well-defined. One rung up, the Anbernic RG35XX buys you a gigabyte of RAM, HDMI out, and a peek above the PS1 line for roughly the same money. Several rungs up, an analog-stick Android handheld buys you GameCube and PS2 at three to four times the price. And if you would rather build the experience yourself on hardware you already own, a desktop or single-board setup running a full front-end is its own path; our guide to a Batocera install in about thirty minutes is where that road starts. The Mini Plus is not the top of any ladder. It is the best-value bottom rung, and that is a compliment.

The Machine's Final Verdict

We opened with the number, so we will close by earning it. The Miyoo Mini Plus is a device that knows precisely what it is, refuses to pretend otherwise, and executes its narrow mandate better than anything near its price. That is a rarer quality in consumer hardware than it should be, and it is why the flaws do not sink the score.

The pros

• Flawless emulation of ten systems from Game Boy through PlayStation 1.
• OnionOS transforms it: 100+ emulators, auto-resume, and ~7 hours of battery against ~4 on stock.
• A crisp 3.5-inch 640 × 480 IPS panel and an excellent D-pad.
• Genuinely pocketable, genuinely simple, no Android tax.
• Legitimately sub-$70, one of the best values in the hobby.

The cons

• Hard PS1 ceiling: N64 and Dreamcast are hit-or-miss, PSP is a no.
• No analog stick, which quietly disqualifies part of the PS1 library.
• No video output and no local multiplayer.
• Stock firmware is mediocre; the real device only appears after you flash it.
• The "game list" marketing is a minefield of clones and inflated ROM counts.

The number and what it means

Here is the scorecard behind the headline: emulation up to PS1, 9/10; screen, 8/10; battery on OnionOS, 8/10; ergonomics and controls, 7/10; anything beyond PS1, 3/10; value, 9/10. Weighted for what this device is actually asked to do, that lands at 7.5 out of 10. It is the score of a specialist that is superb inside its walls and honest about where they are. The Miyoo Mini Plus does not have a 25,966-game list. It has ten systems, one ceiling, and a firmware that turns a cheap panel into a time machine. Buy it for what it is, flash OnionOS the day it arrives, and never once type its fake game count into a search bar again.