There is a post I keep seeing shared around Brazilian PlayStation communities this week, and I cannot stop thinking about it. Translated from Portuguese, it is accidentally the most honest review of console jailbreaking I have ever read.
He bought a brand new PS5, still sealed. It arrived running firmware 13.20, which meant it could be jailbroken, so he paid someone to do exactly that. Free games, the dream. Then he wrote his review, and the dream did not survive contact with reality.
Games that do not run properly. Crashes. Folders the console refuses to read. Files the console refuses to open. He spent hours downloading God of War Ragnarok, sat down excited to finally play it, and discovered the copy had no dub in his language. Games rendering at 720p on a machine bought to play in 4K. And my favorite detail: kernel panics so violent that the only fix was to walk over and pull the power cord out of the wall.
His conclusion deserves to be framed. He is a married man with a job and very little free time, and he realized he was spending more time fighting the jailbreak than actually playing anything. So he is formatting the console, removing the jailbreak, updating everything, subscribing to PS Plus Extra, and playing GTA 6 at launch like a normal person. His words, in spirit: enough.
The top comment under the post added the part nobody says out loud: people only ever hear the highlight reel of jailbreaking. Nobody posts the part where you are on your knees behind the TV stand, power cord in hand.
I am Brazilian, born in Recife, and I have watched this exact movie play out my whole life. The jailbreak is always sold as freedom. What it actually charges you is something else. I call it the jailbreak tax: never paid in money, always paid in time, rituals, frozen firmware and launches you watch from the outside. And this year the tax collector has a deadline: November 19, 2026.
By Ruan Martini
The PS5 just turned this into a deadline
Here is why that post landed when it did. The PS5 scene had its biggest moment in years this fall, Sony answered it almost immediately, and the collision is forcing thousands of people to make the same decision.
The current public PS5 jailbreak, a project called Relapse, was released in late September 2026. As Ars Technica and Tom’s Hardware both reported, it covers system software from 7.00 up to 13.60, which is why a sealed console arriving on 13.20 was such a lucky or unlucky draw. There is a catch built into its DNA, though: the jailbreak is tethered. It lives in memory only, and it has to be re-run after every reboot. Turn the console fully off and your freedom evaporates until you perform the ritual again.
Sony patched the underlying hole in firmware 14.00, then kept patching, with 14.10 and 14.20 following. There is no downgrade path: the moment a console updates past 13.60, the jailbreak is gone permanently. Every jailbroken PS5 owner is sitting on a one-way door.
Then Sony closed the other door. As TalkEsport and others reported, since mid-October 2026 Sony refuses PSN sign-in to consoles running anything below firmware 14.10. Below 14.10 there is no online play, no Store, no preloads, and some digital games may even fail their license checks. The jailbreak used to cost you multiplayer. Now it costs you the entire connected half of the console.
On top of all this sits the one report everyone in the scene is arguing about. In early October, PlayStation Store backend data surfaced by dataminers listed GTA 6 as requiring firmware 14.10 or newer to run. Be clear about the status of that claim: it is a datamine report, not an announcement. Rockstar and Sony have never confirmed it. But it lines up perfectly with the PSN cutoff at the exact same version number.
Now do the calendar math. GTA 6 preloads open on November 12, and a preload requires PSN access and current firmware. The game launches November 19. Every outlet that covered the firmware story framed it the same way, because there is no other way to frame it: update and lose the jailbreak forever, or keep the jailbreak and watch the biggest launch in gaming history from the outside. I keep track of everything confirmed about the game in our GTA 6 hub, and this firmware fight is now part of the launch story.
Sony is also fighting this with lawyers. An unofficial store for pirated games called Overdrive launched on October 12, and its repository went dark on October 14, after a reported Sony cease and desist. Sony never publicly confirmed the letter, but the message was not subtle.
What about bans, the thing every jailbreak owner actually fears? The record is thinner than the rumors: exactly one widely reported case so far, a user in Türkiye who, in October 2026, reported his console and account suspended after taking a jailbroken PS5 online, screenshot of error code WS-116332-6 included. Sony never confirmed that case and has announced no ban wave. The jailbreak’s own documentation, meanwhile, warns users that going online risks a permanent ban of the account and the console hardware. The scene’s own paperwork is scarier than Sony’s silence.
Even the poster from Brazil was not having some freak experience. The jailbreak’s own documentation warns that attempts can hang the system or trigger a kernel panic, so his power cord ritual is documented behavior, straight from the source. Add the boring legal print: jailbreaking violates PlayStation’s Terms of Service and voids your warranty, so if the ritual ever kills the machine, that repair bill is yours alone.
A brand new console, maybe even a PS5 Pro, restarted with a wall socket. That is the tax, itemized.
The ritual is the lifestyle
If the PS5 situation sounds exhausting, understand that tethered jailbreaks are not a bug in the scene’s history. They are the tradition. Owning a hacked console has meant performing a small ceremony every time you use it, and the ceremony is the product.
Take the PS4. There has never, in the console’s entire life, been a persistent PS4 jailbreak. Every exploit runs in memory only and dies at reboot, a fact the community’s own guides at ConsoleMods state plainly. The most famous version, the 9.00 exploit, had a ritual that sounds like a folk tale: a specially prepared USB stick, inserted at one specific moment. Your sign that it had worked was the console throwing an error about an unsupported file system. Success looked like an error message. People did this thousands of times and called it normal.
The later 11.00 method, known as PPPwn, somehow asked even more of you. It required a computer cabled directly into the PS4 over Ethernet, console tethered to a laptop like life support, with failed attempts and crashes treated as a normal part of the afternoon. The standard workaround was to never reboot: leave the console in rest mode forever. Except rest mode had its own documented failure mode, consoles stuck with a pulsing light, and the fix for that was, you guessed it, holding the power button or pulling the plug. The Brazilian poster’s power cord has ancestors.
The PS3 split its owners into classes. Full custom firmware only ever worked on older models. Everyone else got PS3HEN, a lighter hack that, in the words of the community wiki itself, ‘has to be loaded on every reboot.’ Activation did not always succeed, either, so the ritual came with suspense built in. And behind the rituals was the homework era: backup managers like multiMAN demanded that you study which payload matched your model and firmware. Get it wrong and things simply did not work.
The Nintendo Switch turned the ritual into arts and crafts. The 2018 hardware flaw at the heart of the Switch scene was unpatchable, a Tegra chip problem that Digital Foundry called ‘a security nightmare’ for Nintendo. Wonderful for hackers, except every cold boot meant entering recovery mode by shorting a specific pin in the Joy-Con rail with a little jig. The era’s most famous photograph is a bent paperclip doing the job. One wrong pin, community guides warned, could damage the rail. Later Switch models closed the flaw entirely, and for those the answer was a modchip, soldered onto the motherboard by someone you hopefully trusted. A console that needs jewelry tools and a paperclip to boot is not in a normal relationship with its owner.
The firmware freeze
Underneath every ritual sits the tax’s biggest single line item: the freeze. A jailbroken console can never update again, because the update is always the thing that kills the hack. So you freeze your console in time, and then you watch the entire industry walk away from the version you are frozen on.
No updates means no online services, no stores, no new games, full stop. My favorite honest sentence in the modding world lives in GBAtemp’s PS4 guide status information, three words long: ‘PSN Access: Never.’ Not ‘limited.’ Not ‘at your own risk.’ Never. That is the deal, printed on the label.
‘Fine,’ the scene says, ‘we will bring the new games to the old firmware.’ Those are the backports: newer games cut down and re-signed by the community so they run on frozen systems. Backports arrive late, when they arrive at all, and they arrive compromised. Languages get trimmed. Features get trimmed. Resolution gets trimmed. Now reread the Brazilian poster’s complaints with that word in your head. A copy of Ragnarok with no dub in his language. Games rendering at 720p instead of 4K. That is not random bad luck. That is the backport pipeline working exactly as it works.
The freeze also turns every official update into a small season of dread. On the Switch, owners learned to never touch an update until the custom firmware projects confirmed support, then manually refresh the files on their SD card by hand. Meanwhile, new releases increasingly demand newer firmware just to start, so the frozen console’s library quietly stops growing. You saved money on games. You paid with the calendar.
A field guide to the unlocks: what existed, what won, and why
Twenty years of this produced a genuine taxonomy, and every console got its own flavor of chaos. Before the horror stories, here is the map: the main types of unlock each machine received, which one the scene eventually crowned as the best, and what actually made it the best. The pattern in the winners matters, because it is never the most powerful hack that wins. It is the one that asks the least of you every day after.
The types, in plain language. A softmod changes only software and usually survives nothing the manufacturer cannot undo with an update. A hardmod is physical: a chip, a wire, a solder joint. A tethered unlock dies at reboot and must be re-applied, like the PS5’s current one. A coldboot or persistent unlock survives reboot and is simply how the machine wakes up now. And the flashcart family does not hack the console at all, it impersonates a game cartridge, a distinction that is about to matter a lot on the Switch 2.
PSP: the crown that passed three times. Sony’s handheld had the Pandora battery era, a service battery trick that made early PSPs nearly unbrickable and modding nearly risk free. Then came the signed homebrew era and the great custom firmware families, PRO and LME, which lived on the memory stick and worked on nearly everything. The modern crown belongs to the Infinity and ARK line, which made custom firmware persistent on every model Sony ever shipped, including the weird ones. What won each round was always the same thing: works on the model you actually own, and it is still there tomorrow morning.
Wii: the message board miracle. The Wii’s hack lineage runs from the Twilight Hack, which needed a specific Zelda save, through Bannerbomb, to its final form, LetterBomb: an exploit delivered as a letter to the console’s own message board, no game disc required, installing the Homebrew Channel that became the front door of the whole scene. LetterBomb won because it removed the last piece of friction: nothing to buy, nothing to solder, nothing to fear. It is the closest homebrew ever came to an official feature.
Wii U: three generations, and safety won. First came Haxchi, warm and clever, hiding inside a legitimately bought DS game you launched by hand. Then CBHC made it coldboot, at the price of a brick risk that gets its own horror story below. The crown today sits with Aroma, the modern environment that coldboots the console without betting its life on one DS game, with a real plugin system and active development behind it. Aroma won by being the first Wii U setup that gave owners everything CBHC promised, minus the part where tidying your home menu could kill the console. That subtraction was the entire ballgame.
PS Vita: coldboot or it does not count. The Vita scene started with HENkaku in 2016, a browser-delivered framework called taiHEN that turned plugin development into a Wild West ruled by one hand-edited config file. Its successor hacks covered newer firmwares, but the crown never left Ensō, the persistent coldboot version for the firmwares that support it. Ensō won because it ended the ritual: no re-applying anything, no ceremony, the Vita simply wakes up yours. In a scene full of daily chores, the hack that abolished the chore took the throne, even though it only ever worked on part of the firmware range.
Nintendo 3DS: the paid era, the marathon era, the perfect ending. The 3DS began with Gateway, a commercial flashcart whose makers once pushed firmware that bricked consoles running clone carts and caught innocent customers in the blast. Then came the arm9loaderhax marathon era, a multi-hour ordeal this article returns to in the horror stories below. The story ends with boot9strap and the Luma3DS custom firmware, built on a flaw in the console’s boot ROM itself, which makes the setup effectively unbrickable and permanent. Luma won the 3DS so completely that the scene basically closed: when a hack cannot be patched, rarely breaks, and survives everything, there is nothing left to argue about.
PlayStation 3: two castes, two crowns. For the models that accept it, true custom firmware is king, with the Rebug era remembered as the golden age and modern custom firmwares like Evilnat carrying the torch. Custom firmware won on those machines because it is total: the console is yours at every level, permanently. For every other model, PS3HEN is the crown by default, not because it is better, but because it is there at all. The PS3 is the clearest proof that the best hack is partly decided by the serial number printed on your specific box.
PlayStation 4: there is no king, there is a butler. The PS4 never got custom firmware, not once, in its entire life. What it got were payloads, small programs injected per boot, and among them one clear standard: GoldHEN, the homebrew enabler that added the plugin support, the cheat menus and the quality of life the scene organized itself around. GoldHEN won not by freeing the console, nobody did, but by making the daily ritual the least annoying it could be. On the PS4, “best” means “least bad ceremony,” which tells you everything about that console’s war.
Nintendo Switch: the open empire and the fallen one. The Switch had a commercial empire once: SX OS, a paid custom firmware sold by Team Xecuter, slicker than the free options and very popular, right up until arrests and prosecutions dismantled the team behind it and the product died with them. The crown passed, permanently, to Atmosphere, the free, open source custom firmware that became the scene’s operating system, usually paired with the Hekate bootloader. Atmosphere won on the oldest virtues in this article: it asked for no money, it survived update after update, it is maintained in the open, and it never disappeared when lawyers came knocking. Open beat polished, because open does not have a headquarters to raid.
Xbox 360: the purist and the pragmatist. The 360’s first crown was JTAG, a clean software-level takeover possible only on a narrow window of old dashboards, booting instantly and completely, so rare that a genuine JTAG machine became a collector’s item. The pragmatic crown is RGH, the glitch hack, and specifically its final form, RGH3, which threw away the glitch chip entirely and reduced the surgery to two wires and a resistor, with fast, consistent boots on most models. JTAG is the best hack the 360 ever had. RGH3 is the best hack your 360 can actually get. The 360 is where the scene learned that “best” splits into two words: best existing, and best available.
PS5: the current mess, honestly labeled. The modern PS5 scene is a stack of userland doors (web browser and Blu-ray based entry points) feeding kernel exploits, with enabler payloads in the etaHEN tradition doing the housekeeping, and the current public ceiling is the tethered setup this article opened with. There is no crowned king yet because nothing on the PS5 survives a reboot, and in this taxonomy persistence is the throne itself. When a PS5 unlock finally stays on after you turn the console off and on again, that is the day this section gets a coronation.
Switch 2: the empty throne. And then there is the newest console, where the honest entry is: nothing. No public jailbreak exists for the Switch 2. The only famous device near it, the MIG flashcart, is not a jailbreak at all, it is cartridge impersonation, and its entire legacy so far is getting consoles, including strangers’ consoles, permanently banned. The Switch 2 is the first console in this whole history where the unlock scene’s biggest story is the absence of one, and the punishment arriving before the crime was even possible.
Read the winners again and the rule writes itself. LetterBomb, Ensō, Aroma, Luma, Atmosphere, RGH3: every single champion won on persistence, safety and low daily friction, not on raw power. The scene spent twenty years discovering what normal people knew on day one. The best hack is the one you stop noticing.
Brick roulette and innocent bystanders
Everything so far assumes the ritual works. Sometimes it does not, and one wrong move converts a games machine into furniture.
The Wii U produced the purest version. Its coldboot hack, CBHC, rewrote the console to boot through one specific Nintendo DS game you had legitimately bought from the eShop. Elegant, until you read WiiUBrew’s official warning list, which reads like instructions for defusing something: do not delete that game. Do not move it to USB storage. Do not format the console. Do not delete the account that bought the game. Break any of those commandments and the console reaches for a boot file that is not there, and what you own now is a brick with a GamePad. The machine’s whole life depended on nobody tidying up the home menu.
The Nintendo 3DS scene eventually became the feel-good story of modding, but the 2016 chapter was a war crime against free time. The arm9loaderhax era, by first-person accounts written at the time, was a multi-hour marathon of downgrades, full system backups and reflashing, with guides honestly warning of ‘a very small chance of brick even if you follow the guide.’ At one point a shortcut variant circulated that promised to save time, and it was withdrawn from the guides after it turned out to randomly brick consoles. Randomly. As a feature of the process. The happy ending is real, though: a later method, boot9strap, made 3DS modding dramatically safer. Eventually. A decade in.
The Xbox 360’s hack was the most metal of all, literally. JTAG and its successor RGH were not software rituals, they were surgery: glitch chips soldered to the motherboard, wire lengths tuned by hand because boot timing depended on them. A bad install could kill the machine outright. And then came the part nobody budgets for. In November 2009, Microsoft’s great ban wave swept through Xbox Live, and estimates reported at the time put the banned modded consoles between 600,000 and 1,000,000. Microsoft never confirmed the figure, but banned 360s flooded the secondhand market at half price, sold by people who did not always mention why they were selling.
My favorite detail in 360 history is the subscription. Taking a modded 360 online after the ban era meant paid ‘stealth’ servers, plus replacement keyvaults every time Microsoft banned your console’s identity again. The free hack had a monthly bill, forever. People paid rent to keep pirating. On the 360, the jailbreak tax was literally a recurring charge.
Nintendo industrialized the ban side of this. Switch bans began flowing in May 2018, error code 2124-4007: no eShop, no online play, no friends list. Some users reported something worse, account-level bans that followed them onto a second, completely clean console.
And then Nintendo took the whole concept somewhere genuinely new, where the story stops being funny history and starts being a consumer warning. In May 2025, as Game File first reported, Nintendo rewrote its user agreement to warn that it may render a device ‘permanently unusable’ if it detects circumvention. Weeks after the Switch 2 launched, that clause stopped being theoretical. Consoles were permanently banned over the MIG flashcart, whose cloned cartridge IDs tripped Nintendo’s detection, error 2124-4508. Among the banned: people who had simply bought used Switch 2 consoles at retail. TechRadar reported a pre-owned unit bought at Walmart that was banned during setup, before its new owner had done a single suspicious thing. Brazil’s consumer protection agency, Procon-SP, publicly called the bricking clause abusive.
Sit with what that means. For thirty years, the jailbreak tax was paid by the person who did the jailbreaking, and fair enough, that was the deal. On the Switch 2, the tax can now be collected from a stranger who bought your old console at a store, in a box, with a receipt. The bill follows the hardware. The person who enjoyed the free games is long gone.
Even the gentle handhelds charged rent. The PlayStation Vita’s scene ran through one hand-edited configuration file, config.txt, where plugin load order decided whether the console booted or fell into a bootloop, with an SD adapter standing in for Sony’s overpriced proprietary memory cards. A whole genre of forum post from that era is just some poor soul pasting their file and asking, ‘is my config.txt ok?’ Lovely machine. Exhausting ownership experience.
The golden age that spoiled everyone
The original Wii was hacked with LetterBomb, a message delivered through the console’s own message board, needing nothing more exotic than an SD card and the console’s MAC address. The Wii scene is routinely described as extremely safe and mature. The PSP is routinely called the easiest and safest console ever to mod, its custom firmware living on the memory stick and working on nearly every model Sony shipped. If your mental picture of modding was formed by the Wii and the PSP, I understand you. Hacked once, safely, and then you just played games.
The perfect punchline is the Steam Deck, the most successfully ‘hacked’ gaming machine of the modern era, which has never needed a jailbreak at all. It is a PC. Valve ships it open, and you can install anything you want, from any store, with the manufacturer’s blessing. Precisely because of that, there is no Steam Deck jailbreak scene, no rituals, no freeze, no ban waves. The less a company locks the box, the less anyone bothers picking the lock.
My shelf: five hacked consoles, zero regrets, one rule
Before I sound like a priest in this article: I own five jailbroken consoles. A Wii, a Wii U, a PSP, a PS Vita and an Xbox 360, every one of them unlocked, every one of them sitting on my shelf right now. I am not writing this from outside the scene looking in. I am writing it from a house where the scene lives in the living room.
My PSP was the gateway, like it was for half of Brazil. It was the easiest mod ever made for any machine with a screen, custom firmware living on the memory stick, and it taught my whole generation a dangerous little lesson: consoles can be opened, and opening them feels amazing. That PSP carried my entire adolescence in its pocket. It still works. Of course it still works, the PSP will outlive us all.
And some context Americans miss: where I grew up, unlocking a console was rarely about sticking it to Sony. It was economics. Brazil taxed games like luxury goods for decades, official prices made no sense against a normal salary, and half the country met its favorite games through a modded console and a guy at a market stall. You can judge that history all you want, but it is the water I swam in in. The jailbreak was not rebellion. It was the price of admission.
The Wii was the family version of the same story. One message through the message board, an SD card, and suddenly the console that was supposed to play bowling was running everything. My Wii is a time capsule now, a little white museum of everything my generation played, and it never once asked me for a ritual, a freeze or a prayer. Mod it once, play forever. The Wii is what every hacked console promises to be and almost none of them are.
The Wii U is the one that lives dangerously, and I knew it the day I set it up. My Wii U boots through the coldboot setup, which means its entire life runs through one specific Nintendo DS game sitting on its home menu. I know WiiUBrew’s commandments by heart because they are taped to my brain: never delete that game, never move it, never format anything. Every time somebody scrolls through that menu in my house, a small part of me stands up from the couch. It is a wonderful machine. It is also one enthusiastic tidy-up away from being a paperweight, and we both know it.
The Vita is my beautiful headache. I love that console more than some relatives, and it has still eaten more of my free evenings than any machine I own. My Vita runs on the famous config file, one text file deciding what loads, in what order, and whether the machine wakes up happy or falls on its face. I have been the man staring at that file at midnight. I have been the man reading strangers arguing about plugin order like it was scripture. The Vita scene gave a console Sony abandoned a genuine second life, and I am grateful for it, and the rent is real, and some months the rent is due weekly.
And the Xbox 360 is the one that makes me laugh now, because I lived its golden age in Brazil, where a modded 360 was not a hobby, it was a social class. Mine is glitchhyhacked, opened, soldered and tuned, a survivor of the years when taking a hacked console online meant watching the ban wave forecasts like weather reports. I watched friends pay for stealth access and replacement identities the way you pay rent, every month, on time, forever. My 360 today is offline royalty, a museum of the 2000s that never has to phone home again, and in retirement it is finally, completely stress free.
People ask why I keep them all unlocked if I am going to write an article like this one. Because on retired hardware the jailbreak stops being a tax and becomes the best preservation tool ever made. The stores close, the servers die, the licenses rot, and my shelf does not care. Games that can no longer be bought anywhere still boot in my living room. Saves from twenty years ago still load. The Wii U’s shop is gone, the Vita’s best years are gone, and both machines on my shelf are more alive than the day their makers abandoned them. That is the jailbreak earning its keep, and I will defend that version of it to anyone.
Now notice the pattern on my shelf, because it is the whole point of this article. There is no hacked PS4 up there. No hacked PS5, no hacked Switch. Every console I ever unlocked is a console whose era had already ended when I unlocked it, or ended soon after. When I set up the Wii U, Nintendo had already moved on. Nobody launched the biggest game in history on the Vita the month after I touched its config file. Freezing those machines cost me almost nothing, because time had already frozen them. The ritual on a retired console is nostalgia. The same ritual on a console in its prime is a bill that arrives every single day.
That is the rule I actually live by, and it is why the Brazilian poster’s story hit me so hard. Hack the past, never the present. My PS5 sits next to the five outlaws completely stock: updated, boring, perfect. It has exactly one job this month, the same job his PS5 is being formatted to do. Preload on November 12, launch on November 19, no rituals, no error codes, no power cord gymnastics behind the TV. He is un-jailbreaking his present. I simply never jailed mine. We arrived at the same shelf from opposite directions, and the shelf is at peace.
My take
So, the poster from Brazil. Married, working, two free hours at the end of the day if he is lucky. For a man like that, the jailbreak was never a hobby. It was a second job, one that paid him in 720p. If tinkering is your hobby and the ritual itself is the fun, this article is not about you, and I hope your config.txt is beautiful. The tax is only a tax when what you actually wanted was to play a game.
Because that is the real price, and it was never money. It is time, and it is timing. A hacked console charges you a little time every day, then the rest all at once, at the worst possible moment. This month is that moment. The biggest game launch in the history of the medium is 18 days away, preloads open November 12, and an entire generation of hacked PS5s has to decide, right now, whether the free games were worth missing it.
He already decided. He is formatting the console, updating everything, and walking into launch day like a customer. If you are sitting on a frozen console making the same calculation, do what he did, and then do the launch properly: our PS5 launch checklist walks through the storage, the updates and the preload so November 19 is a game day, not a troubleshooting day. Nobody should meet Lucia and Jason for the first time at 720p, on a console they just unplugged from the wall.
Sources
Ars Technica and Tom’s Hardware, on the ‘Relapse’ PS5 jailbreak and firmware support, September 2026
TalkEsport, on Sony’s PSN firmware cutoff, October 2026
Notebookcheck and TalkEsport, on the PlayStation Store datamine listing GTA 6’s firmware requirement, October 2026
Beebom and Android Headlines, on the ‘Overdrive’ store shutdown, October 2026
ConsoleMods, GBAtemp and WiiUBrew community wikis and guides (PS4, PS3, Switch, Vita, CBHC)
Digital Foundry, on the 2018 Switch hardware flaw
Game File, on Nintendo’s May 2025 Switch 2 user agreement changes
TechRadar, on pre-owned Switch 2 consoles banned during setup, 2025
Contemporary reporting on Microsoft’s November 2009 Xbox 360 ban wave (estimates never confirmed by Microsoft)
Cover photo: Osh33m / Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0)
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