When I was left for the second year at the Academy of Deaths, I didn’t even think about what this could mean. But it turned out - teaching activity, a new diploma topic and new troubles. I, Juliet More, simply cannot have it any other way, and even a rector who is in love (or almost in love) cannot save me. In order to become a certified death, I will not only have to write a new scientific work, but also undergo teaching practice in my native walls Academy. It wasn’t enough that I had missed the secret of immortality, but I would also have to somehow hammer home valuable knowledge to the younger generation. Which, by the way, is actively resisting. But since the students put a scythe into my classes, I will have to prove to them by personal example that learning is light, and ignorance is death without a diploma.