Miyoo Mini Plus Game List 2026: 6,041 ROMs, 7.5/10

Type Miyoo Mini Plus game list into any search bar and you are, whether you know it or not, asking a trick question. You expect a document: a fixed, first-party catalogue of what this $53.99 handheld plays, stamped and published by the people who make it. That document does not exist. It never has. What exists instead is a swarm of vendor-assembled microSD images, each advertising a different, gaudier headline number of built-in games — from a merely implausible 6,041 to a frankly insulting 28,000. This review is about that swarm: what is actually on those cards, what the hardware can do with them, and why the size of the number is almost perfectly inversely correlated with how much you should trust the seller who quoted it.

So this is a review of a thing that is not a thing. Fine. That is the most honest way to cover it, and it happens to be the most useful. We are going to separate two questions vendors deliberately blur: what the Mini Plus officially supports — a hardware and emulation fact — and what a given retailer preloaded onto the card, which is a marketing decision made by a stranger. Get those two straight and the game list stops being a mystery and becomes what it is: a commodity SD image, priced at the seller's whim, wrapped around a genuinely excellent little emulator. Rating up front, because I respect your time: 7.5/10. The device earns an 8. The mythical list drags it down.

The Premise: There Is No List

A category error, gently corrected

The phrase game list implies authorship. A list is curated by someone with a name and a reason. The Super Nintendo had a list — Nintendo's — policed by a licensing regime and a Seal of Quality that decided what was allowed to exist on the platform at all. The historian Jimmy Maher, writing at The Digital Antiquarian, has documented in exhaustive detail how completely Nintendo controlled its own catalogue in the 8- and 16-bit era, down to the lockout chips in the cartridges themselves. The Miyoo Mini Plus is the precise inverse of that world. Nobody at Miyoo curates a game list. The company sells you a small grey box with a chip in it and, in most retail channels, a memory card that somebody further down the supply chain filled with ROMs. The list is whatever that somebody happened to grab.

This is why every guide, storefront and product page you find contradicts the next one. There is no canonical answer because there is no canonical author. When a retail listing says 6,041 games and the shop next door says 28,000 and Miyoo's own store says 11,000 for the same 128GB card, none of them is lying, exactly. They are each describing a different pile. The pile is the product. The device is almost incidental to the sales pitch, which is a shame, because the device is the only part that Miyoo actually made.

What a game list means in 2026

In practice, the search term resolves to one of three very different things. The first is a retailer bundle: a preloaded card sold with or alongside the handheld, advertised by raw file count. The second is the community firmware default set — what you get when you flash the excellent open-source OnionUI and let it scrape box art and organise folders. The third, and the only one worth trusting, is a player's shortlist: someone who owns the thing telling you which forty games are actually worth your evenings. Reddit threads produce these constantly, and they look nothing like the 28,000-game manifest. A representative community top-ten leans on A Link to the Past, Chrono Trigger, Donkey Kong Country, Final Fantasy IX, the Pokémon Gold/Silver/Crystal trio, Mario Kart: Super Circuit and the homebrew Tetris clone Apotris. That is a game list. The other thing is an inventory.

Why this matters before you spend a cent

The most defensible way to think about all of this: hardware support is fixed and knowable; card contents are variable and mostly padding. Once you internalise that, the buying decision gets simple. You are not shopping for a library — the library is free and infinite and legally complicated. You are shopping for a $54 emulator with a very good screen, and you are deciding whether to let a stranger pre-fill your SD card or do it yourself in an afternoon. Spoiler: do it yourself. We will get to why, and to the perfectly good legal path for doing so, later on. For the deep dive into one specific 6,041-game image, see our companion breakdown of the 6,041-ROM card; for the maximalist end, the 28,000-games teardown covers exactly how that number is assembled.

The Hardware That Sets the Ceiling

The SSD202D and its 128MB of breathing room

Everything the game list can and cannot be is decided by one chip: the SigmaStar SSD202D, a dual-core ARM Cortex-A7 clocked at 1.2GHz, paired with a Mali-400 MP2 GPU and — this is the number that matters — just 128MB of RAM. This is not a powerful device by any modern measure, and nobody sensible pretends otherwise. Adam Conway, reviewing the unit for XDA and scoring it 9/10, put it plainly: it is not going to be setting benchmark records, but that's more than good enough for most retro titles. He is right on both counts. The SSD202D is a competent 8-, 16- and 32-bit emulator and a hard wall after that. The 128MB ceiling is the reason PlayStation 1 is the summit and PSP is a fantasy.

What that chip buys you, in exchange for its modesty, is battery life and silence. There is no fan. Real-world endurance lands around 7.5 hours on Game Boy, 6 to 7 hours on SNES, and roughly 5 hours once you push it to PlayStation 1, drawing on a battery in the region of 3,000mAh. Those are honest figures from people who have actually timed them, not the fictional twelve hours that turns up in copy-pasted spec sheets. If you see a listing claiming double-digit PS1 battery life, the same author probably also told you it plays 28,000 games.

The 3.5-inch 4:3 panel and why it flatters 2D

The single best thing about the Mini Plus is its screen: a 3.5-inch IPS panel at 640x480, in a native 4:3 aspect ratio, pushing around 450 nits. That resolution is not an accident. 640x480 is an exact integer multiple of the resolutions most of these consoles actually output, which means SNES and Game Boy Advance games scale to it cleanly, without the shimmering interpolation mess you get on mismatched panels. Retro Game Corps called the image crisp in their long-running Miyoo guide, and crisp is the word. The 4:3 shape is the other quiet win — the overwhelming majority of the game list predates widescreen, so a 4:3 screen fills edge to edge instead of boxing everything between black bars. This is a device built, correctly, around the shape of the library it emulates.

Reading the spec sheet like a lawyer

Below is the details table for the game list as a product — not for any single game, because there is no single game, but for the whole proposition: the hardware, the platforms, the saves, the controls and the licence status of everything on the card. Read the last two rows especially carefully. The control layout quietly disqualifies a chunk of the PlayStation catalogue the box art promises, and the licence row is the one every seller hopes you will not think about.

What Actually Runs (and What Doesn't)

The confirmed roster: 8-bit through PS1

Strip away the marketing and the actual supported roster is both generous and knowable. The 2026 review at PlayHouse frames it as a capability claim, and it is the right frame: the Mini Plus runs Game Boy, Game Boy Color, Game Boy Advance, NES, SNES, Mega Drive, Master System, Neo Geo, arcade via FBNeo and MAME2003, and PlayStation 1. MechDIY's FAQ lists the same territory by console family — FC, SFC, MD, GG, SMS, GBA, GBC, GB, FBA, PCE and PS. Note what that means in plain English: the bundled list is organised around console families, not as one uniform pile. On the card and in the OnionUI menu, the games live in folders named for their platform, which is why every credible guide describes the library the way it is actually structured:

/Roms
├── FC      Nintendo / Famicom
├── SFC     Super Nintendo / Super Famicom
├── MD      Sega Mega Drive / Genesis
├── GG      Game Gear
├── MS      Master System
├── GB      Game Boy
├── GBC     Game Boy Color
├── GBA     Game Boy Advance
├── PCE     PC Engine / TurboGrafx-16
├── NEOGEO  Neo Geo (MVS / AES)
├── FBNEO   Arcade (FinalBurn Neo)
└── PS      PlayStation 1

Game Boy Advance is the sweet spot. Conway's verdict — Game Boy Advance titles run flawlessly — matches everyone else's experience, and a 2026 guide confirms that every Game Boy and Game Boy Advance Pokémon entry through Emerald runs at full speed with no configuration at all. If your game list is fundamentally a Pokémon-and-Zelda machine, this hardware was built for you. For a deeper look at how the underlying emulation cores are chosen and updated, our guide to installing RetroArch cores covers the same libretro cores that power most of these folders.

PlayStation 1 at full speed — with an asterisk

The headline capability, and the one that sells cards, is PlayStation 1. A 2026 guide states the device reliably runs Final Fantasy VII, VIII, IX, Crash Bandicoot 1–3, Spyro 1–3, 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. Conway agreed that PS1 games are a treat to play, and PropelRC — scoring the unit 8.5/10 — noted only minor slowdown in Gran Turismo 2. So the at-full-speed claim is broadly true. Here is the asterisk: the Mini Plus has no analog sticks and no L2/R2 shoulder buttons. A great many PlayStation games — the racers, the shooters, Metal Gear Solid's first-person aiming, anything built around the DualShock — assume all four shoulder triggers and two sticks. On the Mini Plus those inputs get remapped to button combinations. The game runs. Whether it plays is a different question, and it is the question every 28,000-game listing forgets to answer.

The hard ceilings: DS, PSP, and the marketing fiction

Now the boundaries, because they define the upper edge of any honest game list. One widely-cited review claims Nintendo DS is not supported because there is no working core. As of 2026 that is simply stale. OnionUI 4.3.0 shipped a Drastic-based DS core in 2024 — the same release that added PICO-8 — and by the community's own account DS games run way better than anybody ever expected the Miyoo devices to be able to do. The catch is physical, not computational: a single 3.5-inch, non-touch screen is a terrible home for a two-screen, stylus-driven console. So the honest verdict on DS is not unsupported; it is technically present, practically pointless for most of the library. PSP is the true wall — GBAtemp's testing rates it not viable, and no firmware fixes a 128MB RAM budget. N64 sits in between: light titles run near full speed, demanding ones limp along at 70 to 85 percent. When a card advertises PSP, treat the whole listing with suspicion. As we will see, the PSP games it names are usually PlayStation 1 games wearing the wrong badge.

The Numbers Game: 6,041 to 28,000

6,041 games and Page 1 of 121

A real product page for the Mini Plus advertises 6,041 games on a 128GB build, and — this is the detail that gives the game away — paginates them as Page 1 of 121. That is not a curated set. That is a database dump with a page counter bolted on, an indexed spreadsheet of ROM files masquerading as a library. The same class of page lists individual entries with the alphabetical honesty of an inventory system: 007 - Everything or Nothing and 007 - NightFire for Game Boy Advance, 10-Pin Bowling for Game Boy Color, 10-Yard Fight for NES. When your game list opens with 10-Yard Fight because the sort order put a numeral first, you are not looking at anyone's recommendations. You are looking at everything, in the order the filesystem coughed it up.

28,000 games and the PSP mirage

At the maximalist end, a 2025–2026 storefront advertises a 128GB version with 28,000 games built-in, and prominently name-drops Sony PSP alongside titles like Xenogears, Yu-Gi-Oh! Forbidden Memories, Metal Slug 3 and Samurai Shodown II. This is where a little lore pays off. Metal Slug 3 and Samurai Shodown II are Neo Geo games — they run beautifully via FBNeo, no argument. But Xenogears is a Square RPG from 1998, directed by Tetsuya Takahashi, and it is a PlayStation 1 game. It has always been a PlayStation 1 game. Filing it under PSP is not a capability; it is a mislabel that reveals the card was assembled by someone sorting filenames, not someone who has played them. The 28,000 figure and the PSP claim are the same error viewed from two angles: quantity substituting for judgement.

Why bigger is almost always worse

The counts do not even agree with each other. Miyoo's own store quotes 5,000 games on 32GB, 6,000 on 64GB and 11,000 on 128GB. A third-party card claims 25,000. One retailer markets 8,740. Another says 28,000. The GameCove aggregation that many guides reference lands at 6,041. These numbers cannot all be right for the same hardware, and that is precisely the tell — the count is a seller figure, not a property of the device. What inflates a list from a few thousand to nearly thirty thousand is not more games; it is duplicates, regional variants, bad dumps, revision tags, hacks and bootlegs. A list with Pokemon - Blue Version, Pokemon - Crystal Version (Rev A) and four regional Marios is padding its own résumé. The Neo Geo folder alone routinely shows over 400 entries against SNK's roughly 150 official releases — the surplus is dupes and hacks. A 28,000-game list is not a library. It is a landfill with an index.

The Titles Vendors Foreground

The canon everyone ships

Cut through the padding and a recognisable canon appears on almost every card, because sellers know which names sell. One retail guide offers a thirty-game iconic starter list that reads like a greatest-hits compilation: Super Mario World, The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, Pokémon Red/Blue, Sonic the Hedgehog, Street Fighter II, Mega Man X, Castlevania: Symphony of the Night, Tetris, Final Fantasy VI, Mortal Kombat and Donkey Kong Country. Another guide, claiming over 10,000 classic games, foregrounds the same pantheon plus Chrono Trigger, Dr. Mario, Mario Kart and F-Zero. This is the real game list — the twenty or thirty titles that justify the purchase — buried inside an inventory a thousand times its size.

The GeekBuying tell: franchise names over first-party

The GeekBuying list page is instructive because it shows how the sausage is curated. Alongside the expected canonicals — Pokemon - Blue Version, Pokemon - Crystal Version (Rev A), Mega Man 2, Mega Man 4, Mega Man 5, Contra - The Alien Wars, Final Fantasy Legend II and III — it also surfaces later-era GBA fare like Megaman Battle Network, Crash Bandicoot XS, Shrek 2 - Beg for Mercy, Frogger's Adventures and Megaman Zero 4. The pattern is franchise recognition over first-party pedigree: Shrek 2 is not on that list because it is good, it is there because you will recognise the name. Note also a small lore trap in that very list — Contra - The Alien Wars is the SNES title Contra III: The Alien Wars from 1992. If it turns up in a Famicom/NES folder rather than the SNES folder, it is a bootleg demake, not the game you remember.

The curios and the category errors

The best evidence that these lists are copy-pasted rather than authored is the curios that survive the paste. Star Ocean: Blue Sphere turns up regularly — a Game Boy Color action-RPG from tri-Ace and Enix released only in Japan in 2001, playable in the West solely through a fan translation. Hardcore Gaming 101 calls it one of the most technically impressive RPGs ever to grace the Game Boy Color, and they are right — but no human curator building a beginner's list reaches for an untranslated 2001 GBC side-story. It is there because it was in the source folder. The genuine category errors are funnier: if you ever see a modern Call of Duty or the 2018 PC platformer CrossCode on a Mini Plus card, understand that neither can run on a 1.2GHz Cortex-A7 with 128MB of RAM. Those are filenames someone swept in without checking. The comparison table below stress-tests five of the marquee RPGs and action titles these lists lean on — the games that are supposed to justify the whole exercise.

The List vs Its Peers

Against the Anbernic RG35XX line

The Mini Plus does not exist in a vacuum, and its closest rival ships an almost identical proposition. The Anbernic RG35XX line sells for roughly the same $50–65, runs the same emulation ceiling — PlayStation 1 — and comes preloaded with the same style of vendor SD bundle, advertised by the same inflated counts. The genuine differences are ergonomic and software-cultural: the RG35XX has a slightly different screen shape and button feel, while the Mini Plus benefits from an unusually mature and beloved custom-firmware scene in OnionUI. If your entire decision is game list, the two are a wash, because the game list is the same commodity ROM set on both. You are choosing between two shells around the same pile.

Against Retroid, RetroPie, and MiSTer

Step up in price and the philosophy changes entirely. The Retroid Pocket 6 at around $244 is an Android device where you supply and organise your own ROMs and the ceiling climbs to GameCube and PlayStation 2 on the strongest cores — a fundamentally different, and more honest, relationship with your library. A RetroPie build on a Raspberry Pi or PC is free software onto which you assemble the list yourself, with a ceiling defined by the host hardware rather than the box. And the MiSTer route is the purist's rebuke to the whole preloaded-card model: an FPGA that reproduces the original silicon cycle-for-cycle and ships with no ROMs at all. The table lays out how differently each treats the idea of a list.

Where the Mini Plus list still wins

For all my sniping, the Mini Plus wins the category it actually competes in, which is pocketable 8-to-32-bit emulation for the price of a couple of new indie games. Nothing else at $54 gives you a 640x480 IPS panel this sharp, a firmware scene this good, and a form factor this genuinely pocketable. The Retroid does more but costs five times as much and lives in Android's overhead; MiSTer is glorious and immovable and expensive; RetroPie is a project, not a purchase. If your list tops out at PlayStation 1 — and for most people's nostalgia, it does — the Mini Plus is the most game-list per dollar you can buy. The verdict lands at 7.5 not because the device is mediocre but because the thing you searched for, the list, is the weakest part of the package.

Pricing and Availability

The device price vs the bundle price

Here is the pricing reality, stripped of the number-inflation. The bare device is about $53.99 in the US and £60–70 in the UK — that is roughly the only figure Miyoo itself effectively sets. Everything above it is the card, and the card is where sellers make their margin on something that costs them almost nothing. Preloaded bundles on AliExpress and elsewhere tend to run around $59.99 for a 64GB card and $69.99 for 128GB. That $10–16 premium over the bare unit is not buying you games — the ROMs have no licensed cost because they are not licensed — it is buying you a stranger's afternoon of copying files, badly.

What you're actually paying for

Reframe the whole purchase and it becomes clear. Buy the bare device for $54, add a blank 128GB card for around $12–15, flash the free community firmware, and you have spent roughly $66–69 — the same as a preloaded 128GB bundle — but you control what goes on it. You get no duplicates you did not choose, no Shrek 2 padding the count, and no mislabeled Xenogears. The premium on a preloaded card is, functionally, a fee for someone else's poor curation. It is the rare product where doing it yourself is both cheaper in spirit and better in outcome.

The legal weather

The Machine knows the law, so here it is cleanly. Emulators themselves are legal — settled in the United States by Sony Computer Entertainment v. Connectix in the Ninth Circuit in 2000. Distributing and downloading copyrighted ROMs is not. Which means every preloaded 28,000-game card sits on the wrong side of that line, selling you copyrighted software with no licence attached, and every seller doing so is quietly relying on you not to think about it. The clean paths exist and they are not hard: dump your own cartridges — our Retrode 2 walkthrough covers exactly that in twelve steps — or lean on homebrew like Apotris and curated legal sets. More on that in the recommendations.

Five Ways the List Actually Plays

The casual and the commuter

The casual player is who this device was built for, and for them the game list is close to perfect. You want Super Mario World, A Link to the Past, a Pokémon run and maybe Chrono Trigger before bed. All four are on every card, all four run flawlessly, and the save-state feature means you never lose progress to a dead battery. For this person the 28,000-game count is irrelevant noise; they will touch thirty titles, love ten, and never open a menu deeper than the SNES folder. The Mini Plus is an unqualified win here. The commuter extends the same case onto a train. The device is 165 grams and 22mm thick — genuinely pocketable — and the ~7.5-hour Game Boy endurance covers a week of round trips. The single caveat is the 2.4GHz Wi-Fi and lack of any cellular tether: whatever list is on the card when you leave the house is the list you have. Curate before you commute.

The completionist and the speedrunner

The completionist is where the inventory model breaks down, and breaks down instructively. If your instinct is to see every game, a 28,000-entry list is not a gift, it is a Sisyphean insult — thousands of duplicates, bootlegs and untranslated obscurities standing between you and the few hundred games worth finishing. The completionist's real project on this device is not playing the list, it is pruning it, and OnionUI's folder tools and box-art scraper are the instruments for that. Ironically, the completionist gets the most value by making the list smaller. The speedrunner hits a harder wall: input latency and timing accuracy. Emulation on a Cortex-A7 introduces small, real amounts of lag versus original hardware, and save states — glorious for casuals — are banned in most serious speedrun categories. A speedrunner can absolutely practise routes on a Mini Plus, and many do, but no leaderboard will accept a run captured on it. Use it as a $54 practice rig, not a submission platform.

Co-op and the two-player fantasy

The co-op player runs straight into physics. This is a single-screen handheld with one D-pad and one set of face buttons — there is no splitscreen, no second controller, no couch multiplayer in any traditional sense. The one genuine exception arrived in OnionUI's 4.4.0-beta in January 2026, which added netplay, including a Game Boy Advance link cable emulated between two units over Wi-Fi. So two people with two Mini Pluses can, in principle, trade Pokémon or race in Mario Kart: Super Circuit the way the link cable always allowed. It is a lovely, narrow feature and it is emphatically not the same as handing a friend a second controller. If co-op is central to how you play, this is the wrong device and no game list changes that.

Who Should Buy Into This

Buy it if you are one of these five

Enough theory. Here are the concrete use-case recommendations, each tied to what the game list actually delivers:

• The lapsed 16-bit fan who wants SNES and Genesis in a pocket for under $70. This is the core buyer. Flash OnionUI, load the canon, ignore the count. Best-in-class fit.
• The Game Boy / GBA loyalist, especially the Pokémon completionist. Every mainline entry through Emerald runs at full speed with zero configuration, and the 4:3 screen frames GBA perfectly. Buy without hesitation.
• The PlayStation 1 nostalgic whose list is RPGs and 2D — Final Fantasy VII–IX, Symphony of the Night, Chrono Cross. These shine. Just accept that the analog-heavy 3D catalogue is compromised by the missing sticks and L2/R2.
• The tinkerer who wants a cheap canvas for custom firmware, box-art scraping and folder curation. OnionUI turns list management into a genuinely satisfying hobby in its own right.
• The gift-giver buying a first retro handheld for a partner or kid. It is cheap, silent, durable and immediately understandable. Do the curation yourself first so they meet a clean list, not a landfill.

Skip it if you are one of these

Equally important, the anti-recommendations. Skip the Mini Plus if you need Nintendo DS or PSP as a real part of your library — the DS is awkward on one screen and the PSP does not run at all. Skip it if you want console-to-TV output for couch sessions, or true local multiplayer beyond the narrow GBA-link netplay. And skip the preloaded card specifically even if you buy the device: you are paying a premium for someone else's bad curation and a legally dubious ROM dump.

The honest middle

For everyone in between — most buyers — the recommendation is a single sentence. Buy the bare device, add a blank card, flash OnionUI, and build a list of a few hundred games you will actually play, ideally seeding it with a curated legal set like Tiny Best Set: GO! rather than a scraped 28,000-file pile. That path costs the same as a bundle, respects the law's clear line, and produces a game list with an author: you.

Pros and Cons

What the list gets right

• The confirmed roster — NES through PlayStation 1 — is deep, and the canon everyone actually wants runs beautifully, GBA and SNES especially.
• The 640x480 4:3 IPS screen is best-in-class at the price; integer scaling makes the whole 2D library look crisp.
• OnionUI is one of the best custom firmwares in the hobby: save states, RetroAchievements, box art, and as of 2026 even GBA-link netplay.
• At $53.99 for the device, the value-per-game is absurd, and battery life (up to ~7.5h) is honest and long.
• Reviewers converge on this: XDA 9/10, PropelRC 8.5/10. The hardware is not the problem.

What the list gets wrong

• There is no official list. Every count — 6,041, 8,740, 11,000, 25,000, 28,000 — is a seller's fiction, and bigger numbers signal worse curation.
• Padding is rampant: duplicates, regional variants, bad dumps, bootlegs and mislabeled entries (Xenogears is not a PSP game).
• Preloaded cards are legally dubious and overpriced for what is functionally free, poorly-sorted content.
• No analog sticks and no L2/R2 quietly compromise a large slice of the PlayStation library the box art promises.
• DS is awkward, PSP is a fiction, and N64 is a coin-flip — the advertised ceiling is often higher than the playable one.

The wash

The device and the list pull in opposite directions. Everything Miyoo and the OnionUI community built is excellent; everything the resale channel bolted on — the counts, the padding, the mislabeling — is noise at best and a legal liability at worst. Your job as a buyer is to keep the former and discard the latter, which is easier and cheaper than the marketing wants you to believe.

The Verdict

The rating: 7.5/10

The Miyoo Mini Plus is an 8.5/10 device saddled with a 5/10 idea of what a game list is, and the two average out to a 7.5 out of 10. That is not a knock on the hardware — Adam Conway's 9 and PropelRC's 8.5 are defensible, and I would score the bare emulator around an 8 myself. The deduction is entirely about the thing you came here searching for. A game list should be a promise kept by an author. What the market sells under that name is an unsorted, over-counted, occasionally illegal pile that happens to contain, somewhere inside it, thirty of the best games ever made.

What would make it a 9

Very little, and none of it involves the silicon. A first-party, honestly-counted curated set — even 300 games with box art and no duplicates — shipped or endorsed by Miyoo would move this to a 9 overnight. So would a second set of shoulder buttons for the PlayStation library. The device is one act of editorial honesty and one pair of triggers away from being a near-perfect object. The community, via OnionUI and curated sets, has already done most of that editorial work; the retail channel simply refuses to.

The bottom line

Buy the Miyoo Mini Plus. Do not buy the game list. Buy the $54 device, spend $12 on a blank card, flash the free firmware, and assemble a few hundred games you will genuinely play — the canon runs flawlessly and the screen makes it sing. The moment you stop treating Miyoo Mini Plus game list as a product and start treating it as your own editing project, this stops being a 7.5 and becomes, in your hands, exactly as good as the taste you bring to it. The hardware has done its part. The rest was always going to be up to you.