It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, He then casts Sanctuary on Keyleth. Percy heads back to the group and fires at the bone devil, pushing it back and away from the prone druid.
DM: Echoing through the hall. Everyone who is ever searching for anything knows exactly where to go now.
Player: Yeah, fuck it. It's worth it, though. 13 points of damage and five psychic.
DM: Okay. Still standing, but looking rough.
Player: And another shot, same thing, with advantage. That's fine. 24?
DM: 24. Yep.
Player: Thank god they're easy to hit. That's 16 points of damage and four psychic.
DM: The third spine devil's upper torso is disintegrated by the blast. Its wings flick off to its sides, spattering part of the bone devil.
Player: I'm going to spend my last Grit. Last Grit is a shot to the spine devil.
DM: That was already three attacks. That was three more attacks.
Player: That was one, two--
DM: Yeah, you killed the second one, and then shot twice to kill a third one. So you're out of attacks.
Player: I'm done. Reload, and that's the end of my turn.
DM: All righty. At this point, you guys can hear distant yelling getting louder and louder down the hallway where you came from. You hear the voices echoing and swarming, and people are starting to get closer, knowing where you are. Tova, you're up.
