There are two kinds of keyboard people: the ones who treat the number pad like oxygen, and the ones who ignore it for sport. I’m right-hand dominant, but I’m a lefty at heart. For years, I’ve landed in the second camp, not caring about using a tenkey at all. Then I put my hands on the Epomaker RT98.

The RT98 is a mechanical keyboard with a charming retro aesthetic, a fun CRT-like screen, and VIA compatibility. But the headline feature is what finally got me to care about the number pad debate: the board has a modular number pad that can be moved to either side. That sounds small until you realize what it actually solves. If you use the tenkey, you can keep it. If you don’t, you are not stuck designing your whole desk and hand positioning around it. It’s a clever compromise in a budget-friendly-ish board that lets you customize your setup without losing the functionality of the coveted “tenkey.”

To understand why this matters, you have to know how keyboard setups usually break down. A number pad, or “tenkey,” is often positioned in a fixed spot on the right side. That layout assumes your most frequent numeric work happens with your right hand. It also assumes you want that block of keys taking up space all the time, even if your workflows are mixed. Many mechanical keyboard buyers end up making a tradeoff: either commit to the full-size layout with a permanent tenkey, or live with a smaller layout and forgo the dedicated numeric section. The RT98 aims at the messy middle. By making the number pad modular and movable, it gives you the functionality when you need it, and flexibility when you do not.

The RT98 also leans into the “make it fun” side of keyboard culture. The article highlights a retro aesthetic and a CRT-like screen, which is less about productivity and more about how often you want to see your tools. People can pretend they do not care about vibes, but keyboards are constant companions. A screen effect and a visual theme can make a mechanical keyboard feel like a piece of gear you genuinely want on your desk, not just something you tolerate while you work. That matters because keyboards are rarely impulse purchases. They are “buy once, maybe regret later, eventually replace” decisions, which means the design has to pull its weight.

There’s also a clear practical point here: VIA compatibility. VIA is commonly used as a customization pathway for keyboards, and when a board supports it, the user can remap and tune the layout behavior without needing an overly complicated process. In other words, VIA compatibility is the bridge between aesthetics and control. The RT98’s modular number pad isn’t just a mechanical trick. It’s part of a larger promise: you can adjust your setup and keep using the board in a way that fits your workflow, rather than forcing your workflow to fit the board.

Still, no mechanical keyboard is perfect, and the RT98 comes with “unique quirks and tradeoffs,” like many boards in the genre. The review notes it has a nice typing feel and emphasizes the key strengths, but it also flags that there are downsides typical to the space. That is important for decision-makers, even if you are not a keyboard executive. Hardware that tries to be flexible has to manage complexity. Modularity can add moving parts. Retro design can add extra elements to the board. Customizability can bring expectations that not every user will fully realize. The RT98’s whole point is compromise, and compromises always come with some kind of tax.

The broader market context is that keyboard buyers are increasingly picky, and they are organized. The article opens with “a vocal group” who swear by the number pad, which signals that this is not a niche preference. It’s a community disagreement, the kind that can derail otherwise good purchases. If Epomaker can make the tenkey debate less binary, that’s strategically meaningful. It doesn’t just address one person’s hand preference, it potentially reduces friction for buyers who are undecided, right-hand dominant but curious about alternatives, or left-handed users who want a layout that makes ergonomic sense.

Second-order implications for anyone building or investing in consumer hardware are straightforward: the RT98 is a reminder that “feature” does not have to mean “more keys.” Sometimes, the winning feature is control over layout and placement. In boards, the space problem is real. Desk setups are constrained. Ergonomics are personal. Workflows change. A modular number pad that can move to either side turns a fixed assumption into a configurable option, which is exactly the kind of shift that can win over people who usually feel like they have to choose sides.