Miyoo Mini Plus Game List 2026: 27,549 ROMs, 7.5/10

Type “miyoo mini plus game list” into any search bar and you have asked a question with no honest answer. There is no list. There is no catalogue. Miyoo — the hardware brand behind the parent firm sometimes styled OnexGame — has never published a canonical roster of what this fifty-dollar grey slab is supposed to play, and it never will, because the games were never theirs to publish in the first place.

What you actually get is a microSD card that somebody else filled up. Depending on which reseller takes your money, that card is advertised as holding anywhere from 13,056 to 27,549 “games.” Both numbers are true in the narrowest possible sense and misleading in every sense that matters. This is a review of the list that isn’t: what is really on the card, what of it actually runs on two Cortex-A7 cores, what is mislabeled or invented, and whether the whole arrangement is worth your sixty dollars. The verdict up front, because I respect your time — 7.5/10. The hardware is a minor miracle. The “game list” is a spreadsheet with delusions.

There Is No Game List

The premise of the search term is broken before you finish typing it. A “game list” implies a publisher who decided what belongs on a platform and stands behind it. Nintendo did that for the NES, famously and litigiously. The Miyoo Mini Plus has no such authority behind its library, because its library is an act of communal piracy that the manufacturer neither assembled nor endorses.

The manufacturer publishes nothing

Miyoo ships the device. It does not ship a definitive game catalogue, does not run a storefront, and has released no software updates or new titles for the Mini Plus in 2025 or 2026. Every “list” you find online belongs to a reseller — a middleman who buys bare units, swaps in a fatter microSD card, dumps a bulk ROM set onto it, installs community firmware, and sells the bundle as though the game count were a feature the factory built. It is closer to selling a bookshelf with the local library’s entire stock crammed onto it and calling the result “a 27,549-book e-reader.”

The counts contradict each other

If there were a real list, the numbers would agree. They do not. One reseller, Retro Game Intensity, markets its 128 GB card as roughly 28,000 built-in games; other sellers of the same hardware advertise as few as 8,740. The figure floated in this device’s marketing is 25,966 for the 64 GB card and 27,549 for the 128 GB — supposedly confirmed by a store rep answering a customer question, which is exactly the kind of source that should make you reach for your wallet more slowly, not faster. When the “official” number depends on which shop you emailed, it is not official. It is inventory.

The historical irony

There is a nice symmetry here that the box will never mention. As Jimmy Maher documents in the Digital Antiquarian’s “Generation Nintendo,” the console business was built on rigid control of the game list — Nintendo’s lockout chip, its Seal of Quality, its iron grip on who could publish and how many titles a year. Four decades later, the most beloved handheld under a hundred dollars runs a catalogue curated entirely by anonymous volunteers on an operating system the manufacturer never sanctioned, playing games nobody paid for. The game list finally got democratized. Nintendo would like a word.

What 27,549 Files Contain

Set aside the marketing noun “games” and use the accurate one: files. The number on the box counts ROM files, and ROM files are not the same thing as distinct games you would ever choose to play. Once you understand the difference, the whole list deflates from a library into a landfill with a few gems buried in it.

A file is not a game

The 27,549 figure counts every regional variant, every revision, every fan translation, every romhack, and every bootleg as a separate entry. Super Mario World appears as the US release, the European release, the Japanese Super Mario World, and a dozen hacks with names like “Super Mario World: Kaizo” and worse. Multiply that by every marquee title and you see how the count balloons. Dedupe by distinct game and the 27,549 collapses to a few thousand genuinely different titles; filter further to games a sane person would actually load, and you are down to a few hundred. The rest is ballast — region duplicates, prototype dumps, and Game Boy Color bootlegs with machine-translated titles that exist only to make the number bigger.

The folder census

The card is organized into roughly thirteen system folders. The verified counts are lopsided in a way that tells you where the ballast lives. The Famicom/NES folder alone holds 1,498 files, the single largest folder on the card. The Neo Geo folder holds 412 — which is remarkable, given SNK only ever officially released around 150 games for the MVS across its entire commercial life. The other ~260 are regional duplicates, bootlegs, and hacks. The WonderSwan Color folder is a comparatively honest 89.

128 GB reseller card - folder census (verified counts only)
-----------------------------------------------------------
FC    (NES / Famicom) ......... 1,498 files   <- largest folder
PS    (PlayStation) ...........   200+ titles  (SotN, MGS, Chrono Cross)
NEOGEO ........................    412 files   (SNK shipped ~150 official)
CPS1 ..........................   ~146 files
CPS2 ..........................   ~146 files
CPS3 ..........................   a handful  (SFIII, JoJo, Red Earth)
WS    (WonderSwan Color) ......     89 files
Arcade folder (CPS1/2/3+NeoGeo)  ~670-700 total
SFC / GB / GBC / GBA / MD / SEGACD / 32X ... the balance (bulk)
-----------------------------------------------------------
Advertised total: ~27,549 "games"
Distinct titles actually worth playing: a few hundred

Where the padding hides

The arcade folders are the most honest part of the card because arcade ROMs are version-locked and hard to fake: roughly 670 to 700 games split across CPS1, CPS2, CPS3, and Neo Geo, with the Neo Geo subfolder carrying that inflated 412. The NES folder, by contrast, is where the count goes to die — 1,498 entries for a console with maybe 200 games worth remembering means every Contra hack, every unlicensed Sachen title, and every multicart bootleg is padding the total. When a reseller tells you the card holds 27,549 games, what they mean is that a script counted 27,549 files and nobody looked at them.

The Silicon Doing the Work

None of this matters if the hardware can’t run it, so let’s talk about the part Miyoo actually deserves credit for. The Mini Plus is a genuinely well-judged piece of engineering that punches cleanly at its price and stops exactly where physics tells it to. The silicon is modest and the designers knew it.

SSD202D: two cores and 128 megabytes

The brain is a SigmaStar SSD202D: a dual-core ARM Cortex-A7 at 1.2 GHz with a Mali-400 MP2 GPU and just 128 MB of RAM. That is not a typo and it is not a lot — a single browser tab on your phone uses more memory than this entire console has. Reseller listings that claim a quad-core chip are copying each other’s errors; XDA’s Adam Conway, who actually opened the thing, confirms “dual Arm Cortex A7 cores and 128MB” and adds the honest verdict that it is “not going to be setting benchmark records… but that’s more than good enough for most retro titles.” That sentence is the whole review of the hardware in miniature. It is a 16-bit machine that occasionally moonlights as a 32-bit one.

A 640×480 screen that flatters sprites

The display is the reason this thing developed a cult. It is a 3.5-inch IPS panel at a genuine 640×480 — not the 320×240 some listings claim, which is the emulator’s internal render resolution, not the glass. At roughly 450 nits it is bright, and at 4:3 it is the correct shape for the consoles it emulates, so a SNES frame fills the panel without letterboxing or stretch. Retro Game Corps called the picture “crisp” in its Mini guide, and that is the polite technical word for what is really going on: pixel-doubling a 256×224 SNES image onto a 640×480 panel produces clean integer-ish scaling that makes sprite art look like it did in memory rather than like it did on a real CRT. It is flattering, and flattery is exactly what you want here.

The full spec sheet

Everything you need to weigh the device and its “list” in one place. Note the two rows that matter most for the game-list question: the count of files versus the count of games worth playing, and the licensing status of the preload.

OnionOS and the Wrong Version Number

If the hardware is why people keep the Mini Plus, the firmware is why they love it. And here the reseller marketing gets its facts wrong in a way worth correcting, because the version number printed on many listings is off by two entire major releases.

The real project is OnionUI, and it’s at 4.3

You will see listings and blog posts cite “Onion OS v2.4.0” developed by a lone maintainer. That is wrong on both counts. The software is OnionUI, a community project hosted at github.com/OnionUI/Onion, and it is a collective effort, not one person’s hobby. As of mid-2026 the stable release is v4.3.1-1 (frozen since June 2024), and the only newer tag is v4.4.0-beta-20260120, dated 21 January 2026. There is no 2.4.0. Anyone quoting a 2.x version is reading a listing that was stale before it was posted. It matters because the delta between 2.x and 4.3 is years of core updates, and buying advice that assumes the wrong firmware is buying advice you should ignore.

What 4.3 and the 4.4 beta actually added

The version numbers are not cosmetic. OnionUI 4.3.0 added a Nintendo DS core and PICO-8 support and, crucially, support for the newer v4 Mini’s 560p screen. The 4.4.0 beta made gpSP the default Game Boy Advance core — a meaningful speed win on this weak SoC — and added netplay, including a Game Boy link cable between two physical units. Onion also layers on quality-of-life the stock OS lacks: RetroAchievements, box art, per-game and per-system config overrides, and the Game Switcher overlay that lets you jump between recent titles at their last save state. PropelRC, reviewing the device, credited OnionOS with adding “3 hours of battery life” and “RetroAchievements support” on top of the stock experience. That is the actual product. The ROM count is the wrapping paper; OnionUI is the gift.

The frontends nobody put on the box

OnionUI is dominant but not alone. The real alternative frontends are Allium, MinUI and its DotUI port, and the older MiyooCFW — each a legitimate community project with its own philosophy about clutter versus features. If you see a listing crediting some exotic frontend with an obscure version number and a feature like “900 MB PS1 ISO support,” treat it the way you treat the game count: as marketing that a script generated and nobody verified. Underneath any of these launchers the actual emulation is done by libretro cores, and if you want to understand the machinery rather than the menu, the right RetroArch core for each system is its own worthwhile rabbit hole. It is also worth noting that OnionUI has plateaued the same way other beloved retro platforms have — frozen-stable, community-maintained, feature-complete — a pattern I wrote about when RetroPie stalled at v4.8 while the hardware underneath it kept moving.

What Actually Plays, System by System

Here is the part the file count refuses to tell you: what fraction of those 27,549 entries actually runs well. The answer sorts cleanly into three tiers, because the SSD202D has a hard ceiling and it does not pretend otherwise.

The tier that is flawless

Everything from the 8-bit and 16-bit era runs perfectly. NES, Master System, Game Boy, Game Boy Color, Genesis/Mega Drive, PC Engine, and the entire SNES library play at full speed with clean audio and no compromise. PropelRC put a number on it: “Chrono Trigger (SNES): Perfect 60fps throughout my 12-hour playthrough.” This is the Mini Plus’s home turf, and it is undefeated here. If your idea of retro stops at the SNES — and for a great many people it sensibly does — the Mini Plus is functionally a perfect machine and the game count is irrelevant, because the couple hundred distinct 16-bit classics on the card are the only list you need.

The tier that is a treat

Game Boy Advance and PlayStation 1 are where the little chip earns its keep. XDA’s verdict was that “Game Boy Advance titles run flawlessly, PlayStation 1 games are a treat to play,” and that holds. GBA is effectively perfect, especially now that the 4.4 beta defaults to gpSP. PS1 is the ceiling: Symphony of the Night, Metal Gear Solid, and Final Fantasy IX all play well, with the honest caveat that heavier 3D titles cost you. PropelRC noted “minor slowdown in Gran Turismo 2,” and that is the shape of it — 2D and light-3D PS1 is a joy, polygon-heavy racers and fighters occasionally dip. Neo Geo and the CPS arcade boards run beautifully; a Mali-400 has no trouble with Metal Slug or Street Fighter Alpha.

The tier that is a lie

Anything past PS1 is marketing fiction on this SoC. There is no PlayStation 2 — two Cortex-A7 cores cannot begin to touch it, and any listing that claims PS2 is lying to you outright. Nintendo DS is subtler: a DS core genuinely exists in OnionUI 4.3.0, so a reseller can technically say the device “supports” it, but a single 3.5-inch screen with no touch input makes the vast majority of the DS library unplayable in practice. Call it out of scope, not supported. Nintendo 64 is not a practical target either; light titles limp, demanding ones crawl at 70–85% speed per GBAtemp’s community testing, and PSP is a non-starter. The rule is simple: believe the list up to PS1 and disbelieve everything above it.

The Games Worth the SD Card

Strip the 27,549 down to the titles that justify owning the thing and you get a short, dense list of some of the best games ever made. This is the part where the deflated count actually works in the device’s favor: a few hundred great games in your pocket is a better proposition than 27,549 files you will never open.

The JRPG spine

The role-playing library is the real reason to buy in. This is a machine built for turn-based combat on a bus, and the card delivers a murderer’s row of the genre. Here are five landmarks and how they behave on the hardware — a genuine comparison, because “it’s on the list” and “it plays well” are different claims.

Note the pattern: the SNES entries are perfect, and the PS1 entries are the ceiling — playable and worth it, but with the load times and disc-based FMV that a 1.2 GHz chip cannot make disappear. Xenogears, incidentally, is a Square game from 1998, directed by Tetsuya Takahashi, who only founded Monolith Soft the following year — a detail worth getting right when reseller blurbs routinely mangle it, per its documented history.

The Metroidvania that named a genre

The single best argument for the PS1 folder is Castlevania: Symphony of the Night — Konami, 1997, directed by Toru Hagihara with Koji Igarashi (IGA) as assistant director and a score by Michiru Yamane that people still play on loop. It is the game that fused Metroid’s map with Castlevania’s whip into the template every “Metroidvania” since has copied. It runs beautifully on the Mini Plus because it is a 2D game wearing a PlayStation’s clothes. For the deep lore, Kurt Kalata’s HG101 book on the series is the standard reference. This one title, running this well, is close to worth the price of the whole device.

The handheld gems people forget

The card’s stealth value is its handheld libraries. The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap (Capcom and Flagship, GBA, 2004) with its Kinstone-fusing gimmick was GameSpot’s 2005 GBA Game of the Year, and Pixel-Swish, in a 2026 review titled “Ok, I get the hype now,” ranked it the single best thing they played on the device. The WonderSwan Color folder is a genuine curiosity — 89 ROMs for Bandai’s handheld, the last hardware designed by Gunpei Yokoi, the man who created the Game Boy, before his death in 1997. And the Game Boy Color folder hides Star Ocean: Blue Sphere (tri-Ace, 2001), which HG101 calls “one of the most technically impressive RPGs ever to grace the Game Boy Color.” None of these show up in the marketing. All of them are better uses of your time than the 27,000th file.

Mislabeled, Misattributed, Made Up

Because no human curated this list, its metadata is a minefield. If you take the folder labels and reseller blurbs at face value, you will absorb a small pile of confidently-stated falsehoods. Three are worth flagging because they recur across nearly every listing.

Contra III is not an NES game

Reseller descriptions of the NES/Famicom folder routinely name-drop Contra III alongside Super Mario Bros. 3 as a headline classic. Super Mario Bros. 3 is correct. Contra III is not: Contra III: The Alien Wars is a Super Nintendo game from 1992. The NES got Contra (1987) and Super C (1990), not Contra III. If a file called “Contra III” genuinely sits in the Famicom folder, it is an unlicensed bootleg demake — a downgraded pirate port — not the game you are picturing. The real one is one folder over, in SNES, and it is excellent. The mislabel is a perfect miniature of the whole list: technically a file exists, and the label lies about what it is.

Pokémon Unbound wasn’t made by “Darius”

The GBA folder’s prize romhack is Pokémon Unbound, one of the most polished fan projects on the platform, set in the fictional Borrius region. Listings sometimes credit its creation to someone named “Darius.” They are wrong: Unbound was made by Skeli (Skeli789), a well-known FireRed hacker who also authored the Dynamic Pokemon Expansion, as its own PokéCommunity release thread makes clear. It is a small error, but it is the kind of small error that tells you no one who wrote the description actually knows the library they are selling.

There is no “AKEmu,” and PS2 was never coming

Two fabrications round out the set. First, the claim that user lists get extended through a frontend called “AKEmu” that runs “900 MB PS1 ISOs” — there is no such project. The real frontends are OnionUI, Allium, MinUI/DotUI, and MiyooCFW, and a PS1 disc image does not reach 900 MB because CD-ROM tops out around 700. Second, any suggestion of PlayStation 2 support: the SSD202D cannot run PS2, full stop, and no firmware version changes that. When the metadata invents a frontend and a console that do not exist, the appropriate response to the whole “27,549 games” claim is healthy contempt.

The Legal Question Off the Box

Now the part the reseller very much does not print. A card preloaded with 27,549 commercial ROMs is, legally, a stack of 27,549 unlicensed copies, and the fact that a shop sold it to you does not change that. This deserves precision rather than panic, so here is the actual law.

The emulators are legal

Emulation itself is settled and lawful in the United States. The governing case is Sony Computer Entertainment, Inc. v. Connectix Corp. (9th Cir. 2000), which held that reverse-engineering a console’s BIOS to build a compatible emulator was fair use. OnionUI, RetroArch, and the libretro cores doing the work on your Mini Plus are all entirely legitimate software. Nobody is coming for the emulator. The device is legal. The firmware is legal. The problem is upstream of both.

The ROMs are not, and preloading doesn’t launder them

Distributing or downloading copyrighted game ROMs you do not own is infringement, and a reseller bundling thousands of them onto an SD card is committing that infringement at scale and passing the liability, and the files, to you. There is no “it came preloaded” exemption; the copies are unlicensed whether the factory, a middleman, or you put them there. This is the quiet cost of the game count. The bigger the number on the box, the larger the pile of other people’s copyrighted work you have been handed. It rarely matters in practice for a single hobbyist, but pretending the arrangement is clean would be dishonest, and honesty is the entire point of this site.

The clean path exists

You do not have to participate in the murky version. Two legitimate routes give you a library you actually own. The first is to dump your own cartridges with a device like the Retrode — your carts, your ROMs, your saves, no asterisk. The second is to load a hand-curated free set. Tiny Best Set: GO!, archived at archive.org and formatted specifically for Onion, is a volunteer-assembled collection of homebrew and freely-distributable titles that fits the Mini Plus perfectly and replaces the bloated bootleg card with a lean, defensible one. Either path turns the “game list” from a liability into something you can stand behind.

Five Ways It Gets Played

A game list only means something in the hands of a specific player. Here is how the Mini Plus and its bloated card behave across five real use patterns, because the device that is perfect for one of these is useless for another.

The casual (couch and commute)

This is the Mini Plus at its best and the reason it exists. Pull it out on the train, resume Link’s Awakening at your last save via the Game Switcher, play for twenty minutes, pocket it. The 640×480 screen is bright enough for indoor use, the battery clears a workday of Game Boy at ~7.5 hours, and the enormous list is a feature here precisely because you are grazing, not committing. For the casual grazer, 27,549 files is a buffet, and it does not matter that most of it is inedible.

The completionist (the RPG marathon)

For the person who wants to actually finish the great JRPGs, the Mini Plus is a superb dedicated vessel — with a caveat. SNES marathons (Final Fantasy VI, Chrono Trigger, Terranigma) are flawless and battery-friendly. PS1 marathons (Xenogears, Suikoden II, Final Fantasy IX) are entirely doable but cost you roughly two hours of battery versus 16-bit and impose the load times the hardware can’t hide. Bring a charger and a power bank; the USB-C port charges while you play. This is arguably the device’s ideal owner.

The speedrunner (frames and save states)

A more specialized fit. The Mini Plus offers RetroArch save states and per-game configs, which are useful for practice and segment drilling. But it is not a serious run device: there is measurable emulation input latency versus original hardware, the D-pad and buttons are good-but-not-arcade, and there is no way to feed clean frame data out. Use it to learn a route on the couch, then verify on real hardware or a low-latency setup. Practice tool yes; leaderboard machine no.

Co-op and multiplayer (the netplay caveat)

The honest answer used to be “none,” and it is now “almost none.” A single unit has one screen, no second controller port, and no video-out, so couch co-op on the device is physically impossible. The one exception arrived with the OnionUI 4.4.0 beta, which added netplay — including a Game Boy link-cable emulation between two physical Mini Plus units. It is niche, it is beta, and it requires you and a friend to each own one, but Pokémon trading between two of these is now technically real. For any practical multiplayer, though, this is a solo machine.

The mobile pocket-carry

As a pure pocketable, the Mini Plus is close to ideal: 108×78×22 mm and about 165 grams, it disappears into a jacket pocket in a way a Steam Deck or even a Retroid never will. The tradeoff is the flat, small form factor — comfortable for short sessions, fatiguing for long ones, and the plastic shell, as XDA noted, “can make it feel cheap.” For the person who wants the entire 16-bit canon in the smallest object that can hold it, nothing at this price beats it.

Who Should Buy It

Five concrete recommendations, because “it depends” is not advice. The Mini Plus is a sharp tool with a narrow, deep purpose, and matching it to the buyer is the whole job.

Buy it if

• You are a 16-bit-and-under purist. If your love stops at the SNES and Genesis, this device runs your entire canon flawlessly for fifty dollars, and the game count is pure irrelevant surplus. Best-in-class fit.
• You want a pocketable JRPG machine. Turn-based combat on a commute, with save states and a bright 4:3 screen, is exactly what this was built for. The RPG library alone justifies it.
• You want a cheap entry into the hobby. At the bare-device price, it is the lowest-risk way to discover whether handheld emulation is for you before spending real money.

Skip it if

• You need anything above PS1. DS, PSP, N64, GameCube, PS2 — none of these are practical here, and the listings that imply otherwise are lying. Buy for the ceiling, not the fantasy.
• You want sticks, or a bigger screen, or dual-screen DS. The flat form factor and lack of analog sticks rule out anything 3D-forward. This is a d-pad machine for d-pad games.

The upgrade paths

If the Mini Plus teaches you that you want more, the ladder is well-trodden. A more powerful handheld with sticks and DS/PSP/light-N64 headroom is the natural next rung — the 2026 Retroid Pocket lineup covers that tier and then some. And if your ambitions move to the living room or a proper build, a full desktop-class emulation OS like Batocera opens up everything the Cortex-A7 cannot. The Mini Plus is a wonderful first handheld and a poor last one, and there is no shame in either fact.

Pricing and Availability

The pricing tells its own story about what you are really buying, because the hardware is identical across every configuration. The only thing that changes with price is the size of the SD card and the number of files on it.

The card tax

Every Mini Plus has the same SSD202D, the same screen, the same battery. When a reseller charges you more for the “128 GB, 27,549 games” version over the “64 GB, 25,966 games” version, you are paying a few dollars for extra microSD capacity and a bigger pile of bootleg files — not for a better console. The rational move is often to buy the smallest, cheapest configuration (or the bare device around $53.99) and load your own card. A quality curated set costs nothing and weighs less on your conscience.

Where to buy, and the counterfeit-SD risk

These sell through AliExpress and a handful of specialist resellers. Two warnings. First, the microSD cards bundled with the cheapest listings are frequently counterfeit or overstated in capacity — a “128 GB” card that is really a relabeled 32 GB will corrupt data the moment you exceed its real size. A fresh name-brand card is cheap insurance. Second, prices drift with tariffs and stock; treat the figures below as recent MSRP-ish reference, not a quote.

The pricing table

Notice that going from 25,966 to 27,549 “games” — a headline jump of over 1,500 titles — costs ten dollars and adds essentially nothing you would play. That is the game count in one line: a metric engineered to grow without adding value.

The Verdict: 7.5/10

Score the two things separately, because the search term conflates them and that is the whole misunderstanding. The device is one product; the “game list” is a fiction stapled to it by resellers.

What you are really buying

You are buying a superb, tiny, honest little emulator that plays everything up to PlayStation 1 with genuine polish, runs the best community firmware in its class, and fits in a pocket for the price of a new AAA game. The 27,549-game list is not a reason to buy it and should not factor into your decision; it is a bloated, mislabeled, legally-dubious pile that deflates to a few hundred titles worth playing, and you would be better served loading those yourself. Judge the Mini Plus on the hardware and OnionUI, which are excellent, and ignore the number on the box, which is theater.

Pros and cons

• Pro: Flawless emulation through SNES/Genesis; GBA and PS1 are “a treat.”
• Pro: OnionUI is the best CFW in the class — RetroAchievements, box art, Game Switcher, netplay in beta.
• Pro: Bright 640×480 4:3 screen that flatters sprite art; genuinely pocketable at ~165 g.
• Pro: Excellent value; the bare device around $54 undercuts every rival at its performance tier.
• Con: The advertised game count is padding, dupes, bootlegs, and mislabeled files.
• Con: Hard ceiling at PS1 — no practical DS, PSP, N64, or PS2, whatever the listing claims.
• Con: No analog sticks, no video-out, plastic shell that “can make it feel cheap.”
• Con: The preloaded ROMs are legally unlicensed; the clean path takes effort.

The score

7.5 out of 10. A knockout piece of hardware weighed down, in reputation, by the dishonest metric attached to it. Buy the Mini Plus for what it does — run the 16-bit canon and the PS1 greats beautifully in your pocket — and buy it with a clear head about the “game list,” which does not exist in any meaningful form. Load your own curated set, dump your own carts, and you will own one of the best cheap emulation handhelds ever made with none of the asterisks. The device earns the 7.5. The spreadsheet earns nothing.